


A Foray into Forbidden Pleasures

by TheDarkSide



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Angst, BDSM, Crossdressing, Incest, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Self-Esteem Issues, identity theft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-07-20 13:34:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19993048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDarkSide/pseuds/TheDarkSide
Summary: When Tobirama stumbles upon his brothers internet history, the feelings he's harbored for his sibling (taboo, forbidden, wrong) finally come into play.In a (selfish) attempt to protect Hashirama, his brother gets rid of the Dominant his elder had agreed to meet for his first foray into BDSM, and replaces him with- himself.





	A Foray into Forbidden Pleasures

**Author's Note:**

> Please, please, please, read the tags. There are a lot of heavy topics in the work to follow, and it would be advisable for you to be informed on what you're reading.
> 
> To Robin, my wonderful role playing partner as the outstanding Tobirama, thank you. A google thank yous.

Hashirama scrubs his hands over his face, tugging at his hair as he leans back to sigh. The leather of the Hokage’s chair creaks under him, and he wriggles a little to find that comfortable spot in the worn cushion. The screen has his eyes burning, even with the glasses that Mito gave him against blue light, and he takes them off to rub at his eyes.

The discreet bag under his desk teases him with its contents, all gifts from Mito for his first bdsm meeting. She knows him so well, had noticed immediately when the strain of leadership had begun to wear on his shoulders. She’d been at a loss on how to ease his burden, knowing full well that sex just didn’t seem to excite him as it had any of her previous partners, until that fateful day that had opened both their eyes.

It had started with a fight which later escalated into a full out brawl. Hashirama can’t even remember what it had been about, only that it had ended with him bent over her knee in the middle of the hallway, tied by her chakra chains as she yanked up his yukata and proceeded to spank him to an orgasm that had knocked him out for a solid five minutes. When he’d come to she had been sitting at his side on the couch, and had told him that she finally understood.

He hadn’t quite grasped what she’d meant at the time, and as an asexual she had said she wouldn’t ne able to fulfil his needs beyond the heir she was obligated by contract to bear him. She had sat him down and explained just what he needed to draw the stress from his frame. He blushes at the thought, standing and shutting down the desktop. Hashirama bumps into his sibling on the way to the door, and does his best not to look guilty when Tobirama raises an eyebrow at the bag clutched to his chest. “I just turned the PC off, but you have my password. See you tomorrow Tobi.” He measures his paces, carefully casual as he leaves the tower, entirely oblivious to the fact that his computer had required his permission to update and had not in fact closed his browser and all the damning evidence of his interests displayed therein.

Hashirama has only once in his life successfully hidden something from Tobirama and the gigantic disaster that had turned into was now part of history. Since then Tobirama had devoted himself to learning his brother’s smallest tells- not that it was necessary to day, given how obviously and badly Hashirama was hiding something. Tobirama went at once to check his sibling’s computer, making sure to keep track of Hashirama’s location with his senses. He doesn’t know what he’s expecting - honestly with Hashirama there was a decent chance that he was secretly and shamefully slipping off to go pet puppies or something of that nature - but the second he sits behind the screen he sees… oh.

He wasn’t expecting something… sexual.

Tobirama feels his cheeks go red. It’s not his business, he reminds himself; as his therapist is always reminding him, the fact that he’s dysfunctionally attached to his brother to the point of having questionable thoughts about him - possessive thoughts, sexual thoughts - doesn’t mean that he should let it affect his actions. If Hashirama and Mito, despite her asexuality, want to experiment - wait, no. That’s wrong. Mitp is out of town today. Which means -

Tobirama dives into the computer. Sure enough, there's a chat log - not nearly lengthy enough to satisfy Tobirama's paranoia - and details about where and when. At least Hashirama had been discreet enough to think of the dignity of his position by insisting on masks. Though that was dangerous, too; it could be anyone under that mask. 

Anyone at all...

No. He couldn't. It wouldn't be - it would be - Tobirama gets up. He can at least go to the location to make sure the person Hashirama is meeting is worthy of him and not some sort of paparazzo or blackmailer or something equally nefarious. He's definitely not going to knock the man out and take his place or anything; that would be ridiculous. The fact that the henge he chooses to use to disguise his appearance is dark haired and dark-eyed in just the same manner as the description of the man Hashirama agreed to meet for, quote, some bondage, domination, and light impact play - well, lots of people have that coloring. It doesn't mean anything.

He's nervous. Shaking, in fact, and Hashirama would be ashamed if he was here as a Shinobi, but he's not. Today he's just Haru, tall and broad and pale of skin and hair. He scratches his fingers over his scalp, ruffling the short honey hair to let it flop forward over his lunar moth mask. He actually quite likes this one, the mottled green and gold really brings out his eyes, unchanged simply because brown eyes are so common.

His fingers rub restlessly against each other , and he does his utmost to relax and act natural. The bouncer at the door had let him in without a second glance, and there enough of a crowd here to cover his escape should he need to flee. The music is loud, but not obnoxiously so, enough to vibrate in his chest but soft enough that he won't have to shout. Hashirama shoulders through the crowd, moving toward the back of the club into the agreed upon secluded booth.

His leather collar brushes against his Adams apple every time he swallows, and the seat is cool through the lace that he wears, one of his many gifts from Mito. It's light and airy despite the dense pattern of sakura blossoms in the black weave, accented by thin straps of leather and shiny silver buckles. He's half hard simply at the feeling, at the thought of being so revealed despite his cock being hidden from view by the dark fur trimmed coat.

Hashirama presses his hands flat to the table in an effort to stop the shaking, and fixes his gaze on the table to wait for his potential Master.

Tobirama didn't mean to hit the man so hard. Really, he didn't! It's only that he didn't look anything like the pictures he'd sent, but for his mask, and he was  _ saying _ such disgusting things about 'breaking in newbies' - Tobirama would have hit the man even if it hadn't been about his brother, just on principle. Doms like that give the whole community a bad name...he still probably shouldn't have hit him hard enough to require an ambulance. And now Hashirama's going to get stood up on his very first try...

Tobirama grimaces and looks down at the mask in his hands, the one he took before sending the other man away with the ambulance. He should stop lying to himself. Hashirama's not getting stood up at all...

He fastens the mask onto his face and walks over to the table where Hashirama is waiting. His brother looks - stunning. That outfit...it looks good now, but on Hashirama's original form it would be even better. "Hello," he says. His voice is stern and domineering as it always is - he can't change that, even though he changed the tone and sound of his voice. He hopes Hashirama doesn't mind.

He jumps despite the fact that he'd been aware of the heavy gaze on the back of his head. "Hello, Sir," his voice doesn't shake, thankfully and it's not as deep as it would be were he here as... Well the other part of himself. The tone of greeting, firm and confident, raises goosebumps on his arms. The more scandalous part of his brain thinks that he could perhaps come at that inflection alone, and he feels a blush burning at the bottom of his mask and the tips of his ears. 

Hashirama swallows, reminded again about the leather collar around his throat, and flicks a glance at the leash in his Doms hand. By the end of their meeting he will either be leaving alone, or be lead out by that length of tough leather. It's both comforting and frightening to consider.

He glances up through his lashes, uncertain as to whether he may look this man in the eye. The rest of him is certainly a sight to behold, body firm and fighting fit beneath the leather. When he chances a peek up, the dark beak of a crow mask greets him, cut feathers blending into his hair. "How am I to address you, Sir? I'm... Somewhat new to this, as I said."

Tobirama is going to hell. Worse, his therapist is going to be very disappointed in him. And he doesn't care one bit. Even if this goes nowhere, he'll have the memory of Hashirama calling him 'sir' for the rest of his life. 

"Sir is fine," he says, voice steady and calm. This is far from the first time he's acted the dom - for some reason, his lovers all seem to imagine him in that role, and he must admit it's one be relishes. "We're not at the stage where 'Master' is appropriate - though I do hope you'll let me bring you there. May I touch you?"

At Hashirama's nod, he takes Hashirama's wrist into his palm, squeezing just enough to produce pressure but not enough to hurt - a tease, really. "We've laid out the basics via email already, so let me be clear what I'm offering. I want to take you to one of the rooms upstairs, where, if you let me, I'm going to strip you down and tie you up until there's not a single inch of you that I haven't touched with my hands or my rope. And then, once you're at my mercy, I'm going to hurt you in ways you've only imagined." He strokes his thumb along Hashirama's pulse point. "There will be two safe words - one verbal, one nonverbal in the event you get overwhelmed." Tobirama's lips quirk up into a savage smirk. "As a warning, I'll be doing my best to get you to the point where there's absolutely nothing in your head but me. If that sounds like something you'd be interested in, we can discuss your limits. What do you think?”

His face feels like it's on fire. His Doms grip is gentle but unyielding, and Hashirama hopes his hands aren't sweaty. The brush of a calloused thumb against the thin skin of his inner wrist sends a shiver down his spine, and he feels the tingling prickle of excitement down his back. Hashirama takes a moment to clear his head and look his Dom in the eye, measuring the strength of him. If things go awry, he's confident that he can win a one on one fight.

Hashirama extends his free hand slowly, and grasps the leash. He brings the metal clip up to his collar, and after one last glace, snaps it on. "Take me. I'm eager to feel all that you wish to do with me, to me. Please, Sir," he's already far harder than he should be, and the lace is a tantalising roughness against his skin when he stands to follow his Dom. The journey upstairs is both far too short and unimaginably long, and the door closing softly behind him rings a little in his ears.

Hashirama kneels in the middle of the room, and let's his coat fall to the crook of his elbows to expose the lace on his chest all the way down to where he's drawn a dark line of moisture just under his navel. It takes a monumental effort, but he tries not to fiddle or hide behind long hair that isn't there.

Fuck, but Hashirama is gorgeous on his knees. Tobirama knows this is probably the only time in his life he'll have the opportunity to do this - the emails had been clear that this was experimentation on Hashirama's part, and people who are looking for new experiences generally don't form exclusive agreements with the very first person they play with - but he's determined to make this a good time for Hashirama. "Good boy," Tobirama praises, and puts his hand on the back of Hashirama's neck, pressing him down further. "Tonight, you're  _ mine _ ."

He's not gentle when he slides the lace off of Hashirama's shoulders to free up skin for his rope, his hands firm and unyielding, treating Hashirama like a toy for his pleasure. When Hashirama tries to react, Tobirama stops him, pressing down on his shoulder with one hand and catching his chin to force him to look up at Tobirama with the other. "I didn't tell you you could move," he says sternly. "Are you being disobedient?" 

Would Hashirama give in, eager and willing like a good boy who should be rewarded, or would he deliberately push his limits, inviting punishment like a brat? Tobirama desperately wants to know: either will be fine. This night is for Hashirama, after all...

The praise raises the hairs on his neck under the roughness of his Doms palm, and he jerks where he's hard and wanting. His awareness prickles at the touch in his blindspot, but it only adds a second level to his pleasure. A calloused thumb brushes up the tendons of his neck, and presses him down to sit seiza. A sigh shudders passed his lips, and fingers trail gently down his spine and begin undoing the lace, and he moves to help. 

Hashirama stops at the burning hand on his shoulder, swallows at the firm press of fingers. The question -the tone of command- has him shivering, and he bites his lips at the stern gaze that meets his own and the sensation of fingers against his throat. "No, Sir," and he lets his Dom slip his coat from his elbows and the lace from his chest. Every brush of fingers has him startling, and when they go down his chest to undo the laces there, his heart feels as though it's beating a mile a minute. When they brush across his nipples his breath hitches, and then they're pushing the last of the lace away and undoing the buttons that attach the top of the suit to the panties.

He's alone for a moment, and he takes a deep breath to calm himself only to have it catch in his throat at the first brush of silk rope against his back.

"Good," Tobirama purrs. "You're being very good..." He strips Hashirama down to the waist and loops the rope around to start tying Hashirama up. He's very thorough, tracing Hashirama's skin with his finger tip and fingernails before replacing it with rope: the chill of the light touch making Hashirama's skin tender and sensitive just in time for him to feel the strength of the rope as it binds him securely.

Tobirama focuses intently on what he's doing - first the chest to create a rope harness on Hashirama's core, then up to the shoulders and down the arms - but he doesn't forget to pay attention to Hashirama, too. The intensity of his focus, usually devoted only to jutsu or seals or battle, is yet another tool he can use to excite Hashirama, but it's not just that. He's also watching him. Watching for weaknesses. 

Hashirama's nipples, for instance. Clearly very sensitive, so after a few 'accidental' brushes that have Hashirama breathing hard, Tobirama reaches down and tweaks them, listening with a smirk as Hashirama cries out and his body responds.

Hashirama pants, cheeks burning at the strength of his reaction. He catches a plea just before it manages to escape, trapping it behind clenched teeth. He doesn’t want to seem too eager, despite how good every brush of fingers feels, the rope is soft but unyielding against his body. When his Dom tugs him up, he's eager to stand, his excitement raising a firm ridge in his underwear to smear clear streaks just above the waist band. He ducks his head, teeth working at his lip in embarrassment.

His throat is dry, as are his lips, and he wets them with a quick sweep of his tongue, and a hand falls to grasp his bound wrists.

"I've got you," Tobirama says firmly, leaving no doubt available. "Follow me." 

He leads Hashirama to a frame and finishes securing the rope around him. The pressure would be tight for most people, but Hashirama is tougher than most; no one knows his physical limits better than Tobirama. 

"Do you know what I'm going to do now?" Tobirama murmurs in Hashirama's ear. "I'm going to suspend you. Your own body will turn against you, and all that you are will be mine." So saying, he pointedly stands in front of Hashirama as he loops the rope with the frame, giving him a chance to protest - or to demonstrate how good he can be. Once Hashirama is suspended, he's got plans to make this evening particularly memorable.

The confidence is comforting, and Hashirama goes easily as his Dom bids. They stop, and his Dom looks earnestly into his eyes. The ropes are tight, but not painfully so. A firm promise instead of a threat, and it calms his shaking. The words caress his skin, and he shivers as his Doms breath raises goosebumps on his neck and shoulders. Every word hammers against his ribs and quickens his breathing. The rope catches expertly at a hook in the frame, and he meets his partners eye. "I'm yours to do with as you see fit, Sir."

It feels as though a weight is being lifted from his shoulders, to hand over control like this, and he's trembling more so with excitement than nervousness. He's eager to begin, eager to learn the feeling of pain morphing into pleasure. "Suiton."

Given the green light, Tobirama smiles. It's only a matter of minutes before Hashirama is entirely bound and helpless, at his mercy, and then hoisted up. He savors Hashirama's surprised grunt - people tend to underestimate how much they rely on their sense of balance for their internal stability. Without it, they suddenly realize how helpless they are.

He catches Hashirama easily, sliding his gloved fingers into the other man's mouth to press down on his tongue. "Lick," he commands, and Hashirama eagerly obeys. Once his fingers are wet, Tobirama uses them to run down Hashirama's ass, so perfectly lifted for his convenience, drawing out shivers of cold - and then he brings his palm down.

The feeling of being suspended, unable to right himself and unable to extend his limbs for balance, is foreign and exciting. A little terrifying, for a shinobi who relies on full body control. His muscles flex in an attempt to get his bearings, but the rope creaks and holds fast.

Fingers wet with his saliva have him shuddering, sending flashes of goosebumps up his arms. He hangs his head, and he sees Tengu's legs at his hips. They're shapely and strong, with thick thighs and corded calves- runners legs. He has a moment to wonder what’s happening when the touch leaves his skin before his Doms hand meets his backside with a sharp, stinging smack, and Hashirama is treated to the privilege of watching a thin thread of his pleasure well up from the flushed head tucked up against his abdomen by the waistband of his panties, drip down towards the floor.

His shocked moan is almost embarrassingly loud, and he has a few moments to pant through it before that hand comes down on his other cheek, and his hips jerk forward with the strength of his enjoyment.

Tobirama grins and continues to strike. Hashirama's body sways with every strike, helpless to resist him, and he doesn't let up until Hashirama's ass is bright red. And just as Hashirama's panting is starting to resemble mewling, Tobirama pushes his panties aside and slides two lubed up fingers right into him.

The hot ache of fingers pressing in, too much and too soon, and grazing his prostate tears a scream from his throat. Hashirama’s vision tunnels and he's so close to tumbling over into ecstasy barely ten minutes in. It's all he can do to snap his teeth closed and whether the bright burn of near orgasm with sharp pants that edge on pitiful whines.

It registers distantly that his eyes are watering, slow and heavy tears dripping from the tip of his nose. It's not the only place he's dripping either, his member an aching length twitching below him barely contained by panties sliding back and pulling at sensitive skin. He breathes for a few moments before stuttering, "S-Suiton."

"Good boy," Tobirama says, moving his fingers roughly, stretching Hashirama out. "You want me to fill you up, don't you? Stuff you full with one of those nice little toys you brought with you, keep you plugged up and open for me...maybe if you're very good for me, I'll give you what you want." 

He pulls away his hand and goes back to spanking Hashirama. The main difference is that this time, he presses himself up against Hashirama's hip so that Hashirama can feel how much Tobirama's enjoying this, too. He's got his hand braced in such a way that Hashirama could imagine that he's getting fucked as his body rocks helplessly, the ropes clenching tighter on his body with every hit. Tobirama wants Hashirama all but begging before he pulls out the blindfold. A good quality one, too - Tobirama vaguely wishes that he could ask Mito where she got it from.

"Th-hah! Thank you, Sir," Hashirama’s barely aware of the words as they pass his lips, limbs trembling in the harness at calluses pressing against his walls. His mouth continues to work, groans and whimpers becoming words as fingers leave him empty and a heavy hand impacts his ass.

The hot, hard line of Tengu's cock at his hip is driving him to distraction, rocking in the tightening ropes only serving to remind him of what he's denying himself tonight, and mumbling turns to barely coherent begging. "Please, Sir, please! I want- ah! I want to be filled, I'm empty without your fingers! Please fill me, Sir," he's near screaming now, his ass burning and tingling from the sure strikes. His hips rock, and he tastes the salt of his tears on his tongue.

Hashirama whines when those hands leave him, and a soft piece of heavy silk whispers against his mask to be tied over his eyes. The ropes are tight enough that he will be streaked in patterns of blue, and he whines at the thought, "More, please Sir, I want more."

Tobirama binds Hashirama's eyes, then leans in close to his ear to whisper, "Good boys that beg so nicely get what they need" one more time before going and getting one of the bigger toys Hashirama had brought with him. He makes sure to lubricate it properly, but he shoves it in without mercy, pumping the thick length of the toy in and out as Hashirama gasps and moans. When Hashirama finally seems like he's almost at the point of no return, Tobirama stops, leaving Hashirama filled up, and raises his palm once more. "I want to see you come," he instructs, and brings his hand down, his other hand going to Hashirama's cock to press tightly on it as he draws it out of the panties, giving Hashirama the first direct stimulus to his cock all evening.

The press of a toy into him almost tips him over the edge. Hashirama has long given up on quieting himself, and his noises of pleasure fall freely from his lips. He wails when his Dom halts the movement of the toy, mewling and panting in his ropes, blindfold damp with tears of ecstasy.

The impact on his backside and the touch at his cock is all it takes. Hashirama screams as he cums, jerking in the ropes as spasms wrack his body. "Tengu!" He's almost sobbing, orgasm curling his toes and spine straining to arch against his bindings. His eyes are wide behind his blindfold, and he hardly notices when blackness creeps into his vision.

Hashirama slumps against the ropes, breathing heavy as he barely clings to consciousness. "Thank you, Sir," it's almost inaudible, murmured by a clumsy tongue and a hoarse throat.

Tobirama strokes Hashirama's face, feeling something twist in his heart. Hashirama is just - "Beautiful," he murmurs, checking Hashirama over. He's not done yet, but he needs to make sure Hashirama comes down gently. 

He wets a towel and runs it along Hashirama's body, the warm water initially soothing and then chilling. "Jutsu?" he asks, checking in. "Want to keep going...?"

Warm water cooling on his skin clears Hashirama’s head a little. He shifts a little, skin prickling at the cool dampness as he slows his breathing. A vague memory of being called beautiful would make him blush bright red, but there is already a burn on his cheeks.

The prompt gets his attention, and Hashirama takes stock. He wants more, usually so giving but he's greedy. This time he wants to be selfish, and Hashirama hums at the feeling of the toy still splitting him open. "Suiton," it's nearly a moan, low and raspy as he nibbles at his lower lip.

Tobirama smiles. He starts touching Hashirama again - gently this time, but in an unexpected manner, taking advantage of Hashirama's blindfold to make clear that he has no way to brace himself against Tobirama's fingers that pinch and stoke and touch. His speed and stealth have always been extraordinary, and he uses it now: tweaking Hashirama's nipples, stroking the back of his knee, then a strong grip on the nape of his neck to push him down into the ropes, then nails on his inner thighs - all sorts of sensations.

He glances to the side of the room, wondering if - yes, good, the standard box is there. Hashirama won't be expecting this, but it's well within the limits he set out. He retrieves what he wants, then waits just half a moment and presses the ice-cold metal to Hashirama's inner thighs where he's most sensitive.

The unexpected soft touches on sensitive skin have him attempting to twist, to turn fleeting brushes into longer strokes. He has no idea where those fingers may touch next, and every fleeting sensation is a surprise that draws its own noise of appreciation from him. Fingers pinching and pulling at his nipples draw an unhindered moan from his lips, and it becomes a groan as he's pressed down into the ropes. The scratches have him shuddering, pulling against his bindings, then the hands disappear.

Cold metal against thin skin makes Hashirama jolt, body twisting and squirming at the sensation of cold that almost burns with how sensitive he is.

"Please, Sir," he has no idea what he's asking for, only that he wants it with a desperation that burns in his belly.

Tobirama is happy to give Hashirama what he's asking for. He uses the cold metal the way he had been using his fingers earlier: unexpectedly, the cold searing his skin and making him shiver and thrash. The box also has a heated version - this particular club has a whole hot-cold theme, which means these are in every room - and he uses that as well. Hashirama practically shrieks when the hot-but-not-burning metal touches him where he was already chilled. 

After tormenting Hashirama with the varying temperatures for a while, Tobirama finally pulls back a little, putting his hand on the toy he left in Hashirama's ass. "Do you want me to fuck you with this?" he asks, his voice just as stern as if he was telling Hashirama he needed to finish his paperwork. "If you do - beg."

He mewls, the sudden points of hot and cold drawing gasps and moans from him as he thrashes in his ropes. He can feel the blood slowly pooling in his groin and he whimpers when the toy presses up inside him at the weight of his Doms hand. The stern tone, not demanding but expectant and forbidding disobedience has him whining. Not that Hashirama is thinking of denying himself what will likely be the most thorough fucking of his life, if his first round is anything to go by. Heat on the cold skin of his inner thighs, and he moans like a paid whore. 

"Please, Sir! I need you, fuck me, please Sir I need," he pants words slipping when Tengu pulls the toy out slowly only to athrust it in sharply. "Tengu, Sir, please, fuck me ha-ah!" He bites down on a scream, and it hisses between his teeth as a desperate whine.

"Very good," Tobirama praises, and takes the toy in one hand, using the other to brace against Hashirama's hip to mimick the position he would have if he really were fucking Hashirama. Which he wouldn't, because that would be...wrong. Insanely hot and everything he's ever fantasized about, but wrong. Hashirama's not here for Tobirama; he's here for Tengu. But at least Tobirama can use the toy and imagine. 

He's going to give Hashirama a night that will blow his mind.

Hashirama moans loud and deep, struggling against his bonds in an effort to get  _ more, harder, faster _ . His ass flutters and clenches on every out stroke, the hand at his hip making it so easy to slip into a fantasy that bubbles passed his lips unbidden. "Yes, Sir, fuck me. Kami your cock feels good inside me. Nrgh- so full, yours, Sir, your hole to fuck ah! Yes! There! Harder Sir," Hashirama is hardly aware of the slurred filth spilling from his lips, mind too caught up in the sensation of rough grazing against his prostate.

He arches in his ropes, doing his best to rock back into the heavenly abuse of his most sensitive organ. He's getting close now, and if any of his wits had remained, he would be ashamed of how easy he is to please. As it is, all he can do is beg more, "I'm close, Sir. Need to cum, please, fuck Sir let me cum on your cock!"

"Come for me," Tobirama commands, unable to resist Hashirama's demands. He never could, not with Hashirama. "Come for me now!"

He presses his hand on Hashirama's cock, giving a few hard strokes.

The touch is all he needs. Hashirama screams his peak, limbs jerking and thrashing where they're bound. The ropes creak, but they hold. After what feels like an eternity of ecstasy, he slowly begins coming down from his peak slumping in his bindings to pant. Sleep is tugging at his mind, and Hashirama's body is so wonderfully sore. 

Mito’s seal will hamper his healing abilities somewhat, and his chest glows with warmth at the thought of wearing his marks for a few days. "Thank you, Sir," he murmurs, mouth already cottoned with sleep and voice hoarse from screaming.

Tobirama can't resist reaching out to pet Hashirama's hair. "You did so well," he praises. "You're perfect." Perfect - and not for Tobirama. Not really.

Tobirama quickly unties Hashirama and lets him down, gently laying him on the nearby bed and rubbing the parts of his skin that were bound by the rope until he's assured himself that nothing has been hurt. Then he stays, brushing Hashirama's hair until his brother falls asleep. As he waits for Hashirama to wake up from his brief nap, he tries to think of how he will get out of this situation gracefully - but instead he ends up just pressing a quiet kiss to Hashirama's head, thankful that he got this opportunity.

Hashirama rolls over to grasp something warm. He aches wonderfully, and when he stretches his ass reminds him of the thorough spanking he got earlier. "Oh wow that burns," he buries his face in the sheets to grin at the pain, humming when a finger traces down his spine.

Tengu is still there, thigh held fast by Hashirama's embrace. His eyes are shadowed, but there must be some warmth in then to accompany the relaxed posture.

Getting out of bed hurts a little, and he has to bite his lip to withhold another grin. Hashirama approaches the mirror slowly, tracing fingers over the patterns left by the ropes. "They're beautiful. Thank you, Sir," he fiddles a little and catches Tengu's eyes in the mirrior. "I know I said this was only an experiment, but I really enjoyed this. I... Would like to be your permanent Submissive, Sir. If you want me, that is."

Tobirama freezes. He hadn't even- it was - he - Hashirama - "...I want you," he finally says, because breaking Hashirama's heart with rejection was never an option. "Very much. You're everything I've ever dreamed of - " 

That was probably too honest.

"But - you've just started. Don't you want to experiment with others? Just because I could give you what you wanted doesn't mean others can't do the same - or even better. You're so wonderful; you don't need to accept the first person who asks."

And if he did - what would Tobirama do?! "Think it over first," he proposes. "At the end of the week, tell me what you want." And if Hashirama does want, then...then Tobirama will confess.

Hashirama turns to face his Dom, surprised by the modesty. He approaches the masked man on the bed, kneels between his legs and rests his head on a muscular thigh. "If you insist, I will consider others. But, I doubt I'll change my mind, there's something special about you," he says it with a soft smile and turns to kiss the thigh under his cheek.

There are clothes in Mito’s bag, nothing fancy, and he slips into them before turning back to wave goodbye to Tengu." Thank you again, Sir," it's honest and heartfelt, and by the time Hashirama gets home and strips himself to gaze at his marks sans henge, he knows that he's made up his mind.

Tobirama's self-control lasts until he makes it home, but beyond that...there's really only so much a man can tolerate. Hashirama - having Hashirama, even once, is more than he ever dreamed he'd have. Having Hashirama want him, having Hashirama say he wanted him  _ for good _ ...

Pity it was doomed. Tobirama knows his brother too well: at the end of the week, Hashirama will meet with him and declare his affection and his loyalty, and Tobirama will tell him the truth and then Hashirama will go very quiet and it will be awkward and Hashirama will helplessly ask why and Tobirama will make an excuse and Hashirama will accept it and then they won't speak of it again but for the fact that Hashirama will slowly get more and more distant as he throws himself into the arms of other people -

Tobirama shudders. Enough of that - let it come when it comes; he's already taken the first step, it would be cowardly to keep back now.

So he goes in to work tomorrow, same as always, and he doesn't avert his eyes at all or for anything, because he wants every minute of Hashirama's love that he can have before it all falls apart. "You didn't finish your work again," he says sternly. "Not even the essentials; you know you're supposed to finish that before you leave for the day." He resists the sudden insane urge to add, 'if you don't behave, I'll punish you'.

Mito returns to find her husband passed out in the bathtub, and carries him to bed. He cuddles her in his sleep, soft and gentle even then, and when he wakes it's with a gentle smile that she hasn't seen for ages. "I see you enjoyed yourself," she says, stroking delicate fingers over the fading bruises on his forearms and sniggering when he blushes. "He's perfect Mito," he rolls and kicks his feet like an excited child, looking so much better than he had when she'd left. The shadows are gone from his eyes and his smile is easy and natural. 

Hashirama startles at his brothers appearance so badly he almost falls out of his chair. He'd been... Reminiscing about last night. His marks are fading quickly thanks to his healing ability, but he'd still had to slouch in his chair because of how sore his ass was. Not that he had minded, it was just awkward to have his mind stray to the memory of sharp smacks and the orgasm that had almost knocked him out.

"Ah, haha, Tobi! I uh, didn't hear you come in. I'll get it done, I promise. My mind was just, uh, elsewhere," he grins apologetically. Hashirama adjusts himself as discreetly as he can before standing with half a mind to take care of himself quickly in the bathroom. "I, uh, I'm going to get something to eat, you want anything?" He turns to edge passed his brother in the doorway, but when Tobirama grabs him by the hair to stop him it's all he can do to disguise his moan as one of pain and not pleasure. This is his brother, for Kami sake, it's bad enough Tobirama had caught him hard and daydreaming about being tied and fucked over the desk.

Tobirama can't resist dragging Hashirama back to his desk. He never could anyway; it was hardly out of character. If he was half-hard from hearing Hashirama moan...well, that was pretty normal too. He had practice ignoring it.

"You," he says firmly, "are going to sit and work until it's done. I'll get you food if you want it, but you. Will. Stay. Here."

Hashirama rolls to turn doe eyes on his sibling, bent backwards over the desk with a handful of his locks wrapped around Tobirama’s fist. "Tobi, why are you so mean to your elder brother," he pouts, "if you're getting food then at least eat with me, please." The request is soft and earnest, and Hashirama tugs his shirt down where it had exposed his chain mail and the lines of bruises bellow. "You always eat alone, Otouto. Madara is away on a mission and I miss you," and who can blame him for putting on his most earnest puppy eyes, this is his brother, the most important person in the world.

Tobirama is weak. Weak, weak, weak - it's even worse now that he's seen Hashirama in the throes of pleasure, sees the bruises he left behind, now that he can imagine bending him over the desk for more reasons than just irritation. He wavers -

And then Hashirama mentions Madara. An old familiar jealousy runs hot through Tobirama's body - he knows Hashirama loves him, loves him dearly, but somehow it's always Madara that gets mentioned first. Normally that would be enough to get Tobirama to reject Hashirama's request out of hand (he's willing to be second in his brother's heart, he's accepted that, but he's no one's stand in) but today he has the memories of yesterday to bolster him. Madara doesn't have _ that _ , at least.

Still, he releases Hashirama at once and steps back, his growing erection entirely gone. "Fine," he says curtly. "I'll eat with you. But in the meantime, you focus on your work - and nothing else, you hear me?" He shakes his head as he walks out, mumbling, "If I didn't need your signature I could just tie you up in the corner and ask you yes or no..." Wouldn't that be a treat? Hashirama bound as he had been yesterday - on his knees, maybe - and blindfolded again, with a vibrator up his ass and the remote in Tobirama's hand, forced to pay attention to the dullest minutiae of village government until he broke and begged for mercy. And Tobirama would give him mercy at first, but then it'd be time for punishment...

"Meanie! And you were so cute as a boy too," he grumbles. But Hashirama knows that this is just how Tobirama is, and there's no part of his brother that he doesn't love, there will never be either. This village, although conceived by him and Madara, is for his brother. 

Hashirama rolls to rest his elbows on the desk and stick his tongue out at his brother when to Tobirama looks back at him, but a raised brow has him hopping into his chair--only to yelp when he sits too abruptly on his sore backside. "Those kids, thinking tacking my chair is a joke. I must've missed some," he mumbles, in an effort to provide an easy explanation. Tobirama narrows his eyes, and Hashirama grips his pen and puts on his glasses to glare wide eyed at his sibling. He knows he may look a little childish, but all the same he tells his brother, "I'm working, I'm working" before turning to his nemesis, because if he doesn't finish then Tobirama will likely find some painful and convoluted way to get back at him that Hashirama knows will never hold up to investigation. And then Mito will laugh at him, and he'll be too busy hiding under a rock from all the paperwork to find out what Tengu's cock really feels like deep-no! Work.

By the time Tobirama returns, he is in fact making good headway, if only so that he can go home a little early and stroke himself to the memories of last night.

Tobirama stands at the door for a long moment, memorizing the sight of Hashirama - focused and serious as he so rarely is. He feels himself grow sad: was one night of sexual satisfaction worth ruining his relationship with his brother, who he loves more than life? Wouldn't it be better if 'Tengu' just disappeared, never to return..?

No. That was weakness speaking, cowardice. Hashirama would be heartbroken, and the secret would fester between them until Tobirama confessed in a moment of weakness the way he always does, and then Hashirama would truly hate him. Better disappointment and awkwardness than that. After all, he's used to being a disappointment...

Unable to fully hide his sadness, Tobirama nevertheless clears his throat and walks into the room, putting the two bowls down on Hashirama's desk. "Ramen, from down the street," he says, knowing that it's Hashirama's favorite. "Thank you for completing half your inbox." His voice is too formal, he knows, but - best to get used to it. He hopes Hashirama will let him continue to call him anija, after, but there's no way to know now.

The tone halts his fingers over the keyboard. Tobirama sounds... Sad, under the sterness. It puts a frown on Hashirama’s face, and he pushes away to stand up before his brother, all thoughts of Tengu and pleasure gone from his mind. Hashirama ducks his head to meet Tobirama’s eyes, and there's an emptyness that was not there when he left. His food steams forgotten on the table as he presses traps his sibling against the desk. "What's going on Tobi? You look upset," he gazes into pale red, iris striated with whisps of lavender where Tobirama's eyes would have borne darker flecks had he not been born an albino.

Hashirama lifts his brothers chin with a finger when that gaze drifts away, forcing his brother to look at him. He wants to ask again, so badly, he knows not everyone appreciates Tobirama and all he does and there are days when all he wants is to wrap his roots around those who poison his siblings ears with whispered words and crush the life out of them-but that's not for now. Now, all he does is wrap his sibling in his arms and tell him, "I love you, Otouto. Always."

Tobirama freezes when Hashirama moves to push him against the desk; he tries to look away, but Hashirama won't have that, asking him what's wrong. And then Hashirama tries to assure him, tells him he'll love him forever, when Tobirama  _ knows _ that he might prove his brother a liar in less than a week...

He closes his eyes. "It's nothing," he says. He's never doubted his brother's love - that it exists, anyway - but Hashirama has always loved him as a brother, nothing more. He's not twisted the way Tobirama is. "Really, anija. There's nothing you can do about it. Just - get back to work. It'll be over one way or another by the end of the week." 

He can't help but hope that Hashirama decides to turn Tengu down: it would allow him to slink away into the darkness, forever unknown. But at the same time, he doesn't want that: he wants Hashirama to want him, to pick  _ him _ . Always, the way Hashirama so blithely promises.

"No, work can wait," he tips them both backwards and into Mokuton curling up from the floor, ruffles his brothers hair, "lunch first. I know you Tobirama, you don't take care of yourself." Hashirama reaches over and grasps their bowls, hands Tobirama his with a grown pair of chopsticks before digging in. He moans at the flavour, shivers with enjoyment and presses against Tobirama's side in their odd sort of hammock. He'll put the floor back later, and when he sees Tobirama roll his eyes he almost grins without swallowing.

"You would take any excuse to stop working," Tobirama says, but without really meaning it. Lying together, listening to Hashirama make some frankly obscene sounds regarding his food - Hashirama is a natural-born hedonist, always eager for new and varied tastes; it's amazing it took him this long to realize the same might be true for sex as everything else - he can't imagine anything better in the world. He relaxes and eats his own lunch, keeping an eye out to make sure no one walks in on them like this. Hashirama is innocent, of course, but his reputation...

Still, just because Hashirama is being particularly wonderful to him today doesn't mean that Tobirama is going to be anything less than the bratty little brother he is. He focuses his eyes on his food and asks, keeping his tone very flat because he knows he can't pull off innocent, "Did you have a good time last night?" 

Hashirama chokes after having attempted to inhale his ramen the wrong way.

Tobirama reaches around him to hit him once, firmly, on the back. "Seriously?" he asks, amused. "Did you think I wouldn't see the bruises? I assume whoever you were sparring with gave you a good time."

A  _ very _ good time.

Hashirama turns away to hide his burning face, pulling a conveniently inconvenient stray noodle out of his nose and tossing it into the bin. His shirt is a right mess, but he can't pull that off without revealing that the bruises are too regular to be from a spar. "God Tobi, while I'm eating too! Look what you did to me!" He huffs sulkily, plucking at his broth stained shirt and glaring at his misbehaving little brother. He can see the light of laughter there, so it's okay. Still, he makes a great big fuss and production of his ruined clothes in the hopes that Tobirama will overlook the non-answer and attest his burning face to annoyance.

Hashirama slams his mostly empty bowl down and crosses the room to a cupboard of spare clothes, peeking over his shoulder to ensure Tobirama isn't looking before he pulls his shirt over his head and yanks another on. "Unbelievable what a little brat you are," he sulks, stomping over to throw himself into his chair and carefully not flinch at the pain in his ass as he glares at his sibling before turning to crush the keyboard with angry typing.

By the time Hashirama finally gets back to his chair, so obviously taking the effort not to flinch, Tobirama is full on smirking, and when, not three seconds later, Hashirama - in an attempt to type more avidly than normal - shifts in his seat and winces, Tobirama actually lets out a laugh. It's short and he quickly suppresses it, but it's probably the first time he's laughed in - years.

Clearly getting himself off so many times yesterday and this morning, with memories of what he'd done, was having an impact on his ever present stress level. A  _ bad _ effect, since Tobirama relies on being as stressed as he is to maintain his equilibrium. Who knew what he might do if he relaxed? Certainly not him.

Maybe once everything goes up in flames he should consider finding another lover to dom. Most of the ones he's had up until now had picked him, rather than vice versa - and some of them he'd accepted only because he'd  _ known _ Hashirama had sent them to him, worried about his little brother's reclusive tendencies - and his relationships with them rarely lasted very long. Nothing could compare to Hashirama in his heart. But if he had no choice, maybe...

He shakes his head at his own foolishness and goes back to work.  _ His  _ inbox is almost all done, despite the fact that he'd taken yesterday off, and he pilfers some of Hashirama's inbox for himself so that Hashirama would be able to finish quicker. Hashirama will probably want to go back to Mito today, he thinks, or maybe - just maybe - he'd go back home and touch himself, thinking of Tengu...stop thinking that, he scolds himself. Who knows what sort of stupid love-sick expression you might be making? If Hashirama sees, he will ask, and Tobirama will have nothing to say.

The laugh, although short, brings a special kind of warmth to his heart and a smile to his face. Hashirama can bear a little discomfort if it means he can hear his brothers laugh, it's been so long and he'd been so worried. Hashirama remembers begging his sibling to consider taking a lover, no matter that he'd felt as though the fact that he couldn't make Tobi happy made him a failure as a brother.

He does his best to bury himself in his work, but the persistent ache in his ass drags his mind half way back to last night and has him twitching in his pants. When Tobirama gets up and approaches, it's all he can do to hope his brother doesn't look down.

Tobirama takes the extra work from Hashirama's desk wordlessly and returns to his desk, trying not to think about what he saw. He finishes it quickly enough, returns it to Hashirama's desk with suggestions, and goes back to his own desk to doodle some new seals he's been thinking of. He likes blindfolds - likes the weight and feel of them - but they're not perfect: a seal to cut off sight would be much better. Especially if it could be activated remotely, a person plunged unexpectedly into darkness, thrashing underneath his hands, Hashirama gasping as Tobirama thrusts into him -

He stops that thought with a burst of effort. Fuck, he needs to go take care of himself  _ again _ ...actually, no. What he  _ needs  _ is to talk to his damn therapist. He picks up the phone and dials her number, waiting through her answering machine to set up an appointment for later. Hashirama knows who she is, so he doesn't mind doing it in front of him even if it is a sign of weakness that he needs to break his usual habits. Tobirama usually despises weakness, but right now he really needs someone to talk to. When she doesn't answer, he leaves a message and hangs up, bringing his fingers up to his face to rub his eyes.

The thump of paper on his desk draws a sigh, and when Tobirama settles again he glares down at his lap. There's an insistent twitch and he huffs at himself. Well, if it's not going to go away, then he's just going to have to direct it. His new shirt is long enough to hide it, and Hashirama slips a hand in his pocket and pushes his hardness to rest at the crease of his hip while Tobirama is distracted on the phone.

He's just about done, signs off on the last page that he's followed Tobirama's suggestions on, and Hashirama stands to bring his sibling the forms. His leg is sticky, and he does his best to ignore it and walk normally. "Everything okay, Tobirama," he queries, trying not to squirm and fisting his free hand in his pocket.

"Everything's fine," Tobirama says brusquely. "You're done, then? Well done. You can go." 

He can't help but fall into the cadence of orders, the only way he really knows to talk to his brother any more, and he orders him to go though he would like nothing more than for Hashirama to stay a little longer. Bad enough when he was losing Hashirama's attention to  _ Madara _ ; now he's losing it to  _ himself _ . Still - if Hashirama's going to go jerk off, he could slip a seal onto his robe to act as a listener, to hear him, maybe even to see...

No. That's  _ wrong _ . If there's one thing that he prides himself on about the disaster that was yesterday, it's that he never touched Hashirama for his own pleasure, only for Hashirama's. That's going to be his excuse, if Hashirama turns his face away from him. He did it for Hashirama, just as he always does, and he just doesn't know the line where to stop. He never did. He was never good enough at knowing what was right and what was wrong to make Hashirama happy - never was, and never would be - and what is this but yet another mistake his brother has to forgive him for...? Assuming he did, that is.

Tobirama stands up abruptly, noting to his surprise that Hashirama hadn't dashed out as he always did when Tobirama gave him permission to skive off early. "I'll be in the labs later today if you need me for anything," he says, and goes out the window, ignoring the fact that he'd probably surprised Hashirama quite a bit by leaving early himself. Still: fuck making an appointment; his therapist could deal with him crashing in at odd hours. After all, what's the point of having a therapist who's sealed against ever revealing any secret if not to spill his darkest thoughts - what he'd done, what he wanted to do, his fears of what Hashirama might say, his fears of what he himself might do if Hashirama did turn away from him...definitely time for a chat.

Hashirama stares after his brother for a while before shaking his head. He lifts one of the many wooden rings he wears from his finger, and fits it where he's hard and leaking before he turns to leave. He shouldn't do this in public but that's half the thrill, and the feeling of knowing that someone had only to look to see how hard he is sends shivers up his spine as he heads home.

  
  


Uchiha Kou is... Not surprised to see Senju Tobirama slamming in through her window, despite the fact that the appointment had not been set for now. Instead, she set down her embroidery and drags out her teapot and notebook. When the tea is made, heated by controlled Katon, Kou sits and rests the capped pen on the closed notebook. "Hit me with it," she says, voice neutral if a little long suffering

Tobirama seals the room first, using a jutsu to detect anything in the nearby vicinity and another to break anything he didn't detect before closing the loop that would keep his conversation private. He'd tattoo'd the privacy seal onto Uchiha Kou's tongue himself - no other way he'd trust anyone, much less an Uchiha, with his secrets. Hashirama had once suggested a Yamanaka, but Tobirama found the very idea repulsive; far better it be someone he can at least pretend to himself that he could control. Moreover, he'd found through experimentation that only an Uchiha would understand the insane and uncontrollable passions he found himself subject to, and therefore Kou was the only therapist he'd ever kept for longer than a week. They were pretty decent at it, too, and had never complained about the stringency of the measures Tobirama took. Actually, Tobirama was pretty sure Kou used the fact that they had a privacy seal on their tongue as a method to advertise their services - Tobirama was hardly the only shinobi with more than a fair share of paranoia.

Privacy assured, Tobirama turned back and sat down across from Kou. "My brother decided he wanted to try out BDSM," he says flatly, pouring them both tea from the teapot. "He left it open on his computer: he'd decided to meet with someone to experiment."

Kou splutters, glaring at the label on the tea bag to assure herself that yes, this is the tea she likes, before turning angry eyes to her patient and swallowing loudly. "I'm going to be annoyed at what you have to tell me, aren't I. No, don't answer," she sets the notebook carefully aside and fold her hands fastidiously in her lap, "please tell me you did not actually fuck our most esteemed Hokage."

"No, but not for lack of wanting to," Tobirama says, blunt as ever. "I went to verify that the person he was meeting was of quality; he wasn't. I didn't want Hashirama to get stood up the very first time he tried something he clearly needed; I substituted myself. These are all excuses for doing what I wanted to do. But I didn't fuck him." He pauses for a moment. "At least, not physically. I beat him until he came, does that count?"

Kou splutters again. She has a tendency to do that. 

"At the end of the evening, he asked if he could be my permanent submissive," Tobirama continues, his voice still flat. "I talked him into thinking it over for a week, after which point - if he persists with his request - I intend to confess to him what I did. This has caused me some psychological distress. You're my therapist: advise me."

Kou stretches back in the rocking chair, back back back, before letting it swing her forward into their waiting palms which she drags down her face. "You know, this is really not what I was expecting when Izuna-sama recommended me to you. After dealing with his inferiority complex, I thought I could take on anything. You want advice Tobirama-sama? Well me too." Kou takes a long, angry slurp of their tea and paws at her face in an attempt to calm down. "Sometimes I wish you'd sealed my ears instead," she growls before taking a deep breath. "Look here, I know that whatever advice I give you seems to drain right out of your ears the moment your cock notices you're in a room with Hashirama, but please, for your sake and mine, come clean." She collapses forward, yard long hair spilling over to hide herface.

"Stop being overdramatic," Tobirama says, ignoring the bit about Izuna's inferiority complex as a matter of professional courtesy, particularly given that he'd had no little part in purposefully fostering some of the depths of that complex himself as a battlefield tactic. "I've already told you I plan to confess my actions, after which point he will probably disown me - or, worse, get extremely awkward, try to sympathize, and explain that he doesn't see me that way. Then he'll buy me a prostitute and start avoiding me." 

He says this rather bitterly, because it's not like he hasn't  _ tried _ to tell Hashirama that he was having problems - he'd been awkward and stupid as a teenager, stuttering about feeling certain things about people he cared about, and Hashirama had defaulted to the "buy a prostitute" method of dealing with anything sexual ever that their father had basically perfected. Tobirama's pretty sure Hashirama never realized that Tobirama had  _ not _ simply "confused" his wet dreams for the nearest possible subject, but that experience had been enough to shut Tobirama up on the subject for a very long time. 

"If he decides that he's done with me, I'm concerned that I may become aggressive against him, probably leading to my arrest," he adds thoughtfully. "Or possibly commit suicide; either way, I won't be available to assist in supporting the village infrastructure. I think I've set up enough for it to run by itself without my death causing us to be so incompetent that we get invaded by Kiri or something, but I'm not actually sure. Do you have any advice to make this end result less likely?"

Kou tips herself forward to sprawl out on the floor and hums. "Tell him, don't tell him? Tea, no tea? Look, Senju," she says, standing and pushing Tobirama, chair and all to the window, "one thing I've learned about your brother when he came to see me-don't look so shocked, spring gives him urges- is that he's very open minded. My advice to you, is that you tell him and let him surprise you. Soon. These heavy secrets are bad for your heart and worse for my ears." Kou seats themselves on the sill, and reaches up into the adjacent bookshelf to pull down their oversized teapot and tip out her own therapy ferret into their lap to pet.

"I know spring gives him urges," Tobirama says snappishly. "I'm the one who told you about that in the first place. And there's open-minded and then there's your baby brother, who you don't see as a sexual being, wanting to fuck you. I've already decided to tell him already! I don't need help with that. I need help with wrapping my mind around my decision so I don't kill someone as a means of processing my emotions, as, let me remind you, I've  _ banned _ doing that." His voice suggested that if he hadn't, he'd be considering Kou as a potential target.

"For Kami's sake! What's there to wrap around," Kou snaps, Uchiha temper finally rearing its head and startling her ferret into wakefulness,"if you've made up your mind then that's it! The longer you wait the worse it will be! Now off you go you bloody menace!" Kou slams the window open and points, and when Tobirama is on the other side she yells that Tobirama, "tell that skinny bastard Izuna that his moles are fucking up my vegetable patch and my roses!" Before slamming the window shut and sliding to the floor.

Tobirama scowls as he leaves. Useless! How is he supposed to process his emotions about this if even his therapist won't talk through it with him? Isn't a therapist supposed to help him avoid spiralling into fixation and depression by obsessing over what ifs and worst case scenarios? 

He spitefully breaks all of Kou's plumbing on his way out, catches a passing genin and instructs him to pass along Kou's message to Izuna (profanity included), and stomps off to his lab. He's going to go blow stuff up. That'll make him feel better.

Hashirama squeaks at the sight of his angry brother stomping up the path. He'd brought himself to peak twice at home before he was even mildly satisfied, groaning through his orgasms to memories of last night. Yet still there's a restlessness in him, his limbs tingle with energy and excitement even though he's sad that his bruises are fading so quickly.

"Tobi! I was uh, wondering if you would spar with me?" Madara is his usual partner, but he's predictable. And anyway, Madara's just gotten back and he's spending the evening with Izuna.

Tobirama glares at Hashirama, unknowing orchestrator of all his troubles. The fact that Hashirama is clearly post-orgasmic right now - flushed cheeks, sweat, a bit of a musky smell - doesn't help. 

But Hashirama looks at him all pleadingly and Tobirama is just so damn weak.

"Fine," he says shortly. He'll enjoy pounding Hashirama into the ground...in a nonsexual way, of course. "Training ground behind the house?"

He falters at such an intense gaze. Something must’ve really upset his brother, his eyes are narrow and hungry and dark. "You know," he says as blithely as possible as he walks the path around the house to the training ground hidden by a copse of trees, "you can talk to me about anything." The clearing within is covered with grass scattered with wild flowers. "I am your brother, after all," he says, taking up a ready taijutsu stance.

"Hn," Tobirama grunts noncommittally. He should leave it at that, really; but he's in a terrible mood, it's all Hashirama's fault (all his own fault, as always; this wouldn't be a problem if he wasn't  _ like this _ , if he was better) and they're about to fight. So he adds, a little bitterly, "I don't think I've talked to you about 'anything' since the time I told you that visiting the river so often might be bad for you and three days later you accused me of betraying you."

And while Hashirama is gaping at him - because they  _ don't talk _ about that time Hashirama committed state treason, because of course not, not now that the village has been formed and all that war and unpleasantness is behind them, and his and Madara's childhood friendship the stuff of history and legend and cute stories taught in elementary school classes - Tobirama attacks, forming hand seals for his water dragon with his hands and sending a wave of earth at Hashirama with a stamp of his foot before leaping afterwards, hands outstretched to try to grab onto Hashirama's robe.

His shock is such that Hashirama only barely manages to evade the jutsu. Unbalanced as he is, Tobirama manages to snag his kimono, tearing it open to reveal the lack of pinching mesh armour beneath. He has a bare second to worry about his marks before Tobirama is on him again. Hashirama blocks the kicks and punches frantically, for all he's the stronger of the two, Tobirama is the fastest man in the country.

His brother pushes him back, raining blows so quickly he doesn't have time to form seals, and before he's even aware of what's happened he's on his back. Tobirama is above him, forearm to his throat and one hand pinned above his head. Hashirama is still reeling from the shock, gazing up into blazing dark red eyes, and he thinks that he's allowed to be unaware that his body had... Reacted inappropriately to the distinct sense of power and danger that his sibling is giving off in waves.

The fight is over too quickly: Tobirama has Hashirama pinned on the ground before he can really work out his frustration. Still, between the two of them, Tobirama has speed and Hashirama has endurance, so a quick resolution is the only way he'd ever end up on top.

Unless Hashirama lets him, that is. 

Tobirama can feel Hashirama hard against his thigh, and he angles his body to the side so that Hashirama can't feel his own returning hardness as he grinds his hip down until Hashirama's cock is being rubbed painfully raw from the pressure. He presses his arm down on Hashirama's throat at the same time - not enough to block airflow, but enough to make it a little harder. Tobirama wishes that breathplay was on the list of Hashirama's pre-approved activities with Tengu; he knows Hashirama would love it, and his assumption is right, based on the way Hashirama's cheeks have flushed red and his breath coming faster. "I win," Tobirama says, careful not to give Hashirama the slightest inch of room to break free. "Yield."

The press against his member has his legs spasming as he gasps, fighting for air against the constriction of his throat. "Tobi, Tobi don't aha! Please," and Hashirama will blame this on oxygen deprivation and a confusing rush of endorphins for the rest of his life, "Sir, please."

Tobirama freezes above him, and Hashirama bucks up despite the delicious pain to try and throw his brother off. Instead all he manages to do is dig a deeper grave by failing to catch the moan before it leaves his mouth, and Hashirama shuts his eyes tight and turns his head away, and waits for the scorn, the disgust, the blow, anything. He's trembling, more afraid now than ever before of losing his brother, and then there's a finger at his bare chest. A slow trace down a bruise and he wants to  _ look _ , but that will mean seeing hate in Tobirama’s eyes. "O-okay, Tobirama, you win. I yield."

Tobirama closes his eyes when Hashirama yields. It's not for him, he reminds himself desperately. It's not  _ for him _ . It's for - for Tengu, for Hashirama's other lovers. For anyone but him. He's just...taking advantage. As always. These bruises are not for him to trace, to kiss, to press his thumb into and watch as Hashirama squirms and writhes for him.

He sighs and pulls back, releasing Hashirama. "Forgive me, anija," he says. "I shouldn't have -" Many things. He shouldn't have done so many things. "My therapist kicked me out of our impromptu session early today; I was in a bad mood. I let myself get carried away." He settles back on his heels. "Would you like to continue to spar? You're clearly very twitchy today; whoever you fought yesterday must not have taken very good care."

He's just going to pretend everything is fine - that Hashirama's reaction was just twitchiness, just adrenaline, just the usual side-effects of battle. After all, Tobirama has until the end of the week, unless Hashirama reaches out earlier. He has that long for his brother to still love him.

Hashirama stands, "no, no I think I need... something else later for this." He forces a smile at his sibling, bids Tobirama walk with him. They approach Tobirama's house, not too far from the lab, and Hashirama allows his brother to open up.

He's quick to make tea for the both of them, and sits at the kotatsu. He leans back against mokuton that curls from the floor, and looks earnestly at his sibling. "I know we don't talk much, not nearly as much as we should, and I want to know what's going on. But I also know that it's hard for you to talk, so I'll go first." He shifts uncomfortably before continuing, "I've uh, I've met someone. And we did some stuff that I didn't think I'd enjoy, but I do. Point is; whatever’s bugging you, you can tell me about it. Here," he says as he drops a knot of wood onto the table before his sibling, "I know my promises probably don't mean anything to you anymore, but if you need me to hear you out without leaving or interrupting, give me this and I promise I'll listen till the end." With that, he bids his brother farewell and shunshins home.

The first thing he does once there is send an email to Tengu. "Sir, I need you."

Tobirama's fingers clench around the piece of wood. Hashirama's promises...he sighs. Hashirama's not wrong. Tobirama hasn't really believed Hashirama in years, no matter how much he adores him; he knows where he falls on the list of Hashirama's priorities, how low, and he's always judged everything accordingly ever since. How many times has Hashirama promised him his attention and then gotten distracted? How many times has he been left behind and forgotten? But if he really means it...

Tobirama's phone beeps and he looks up with a frown, pulling it out to check. That's the alert he set up on Hashirama's account to reroute any emails sent to 'Tengu' to his own duplicate account. And the email itself...

"What do you need, Haru?" Tobirama types at once. "I'm here for you."

Even when you're not here for me, I'll always be here for you - anija...

His fingers hesitate for a moment before he types out the message. He paces, indecisive, before hitting send and hoping he's not too eager or too rushed, that it's not too much. Hashirama knows he needs this, he's been on edge all day, and now this fight with Tobirama... He snarls at himself, at how the weight of his siblings hip had almost driven him over the edge, how he'd exposed his depravities to his little brother. 

"I need you to fuck me, Sir. Blindfolded and gagged and with  _ your _ cock, Sir. Please."

Tobirama stares at his phone. At the message. At the request - 

At the temptation.

Fuck. 

He  _ shouldn't _ . What he did yesterday, he did for Hashirama - it was non-sexual on his part, or he could argue that it was. He could save that much face. He could repair that much of his relationship with Hashirama. But after today...yesterday wasn't enough. He knows that now. He won't be satisfied with that little taste. He has to have what he's dreamt about for so long, or else he'll try something like he did today: right in the middle of their own training ground, seeking something he doesn't have any right to. 

His hand clenches down on the piece of wood.

"There's a small hotel towards the edge of the center of town," he types back slowly. "The address is attached. Be in room 3A in an hour." The hotel is not far from the Senju household; Hashirama would be able to get there within fifteen minutes with little effort, and Tobirama expects that he will do so, and go to the room at once. As soon as Hashirama is in the room, Tobirama will order the entire hotel evacuated in perfect silence, all but Hashirama, to give them the privacy they need. After all, the hotel - while perfectly innocent on the surface - belongs to him; he'd gotten tired of all of their ANBU whining about never having a place that appeared legitimate to take their lovers to and purchased the property. Hashirama, who was painfully disinterested in ANBU affairs, had no idea. "I'll be there. I'll give you what you need."

Hashirama showers in two minutes, dresses in seven and is standing at door 3A within twelve. His hand shakes, and the key is a little difficult to fit into the lock. The door opens without a sound, and the room within is luxuriant without being tacky or opulent. The carpet is thick under his toes, and he stows his bag in a corner and stripes out of his clothes. The panties are silky soft, white with a thin lace trim and a faint floral pattern in silver with hints of red. The nightie matches, a thin mesh thing that he'd eyed in Mito's collection until she'd given him his own. She'd said he looked like a dream of innocence, and Hashirama had blushed something furious at that.

The collar is still a snug fit, and the suede is softer than velvet against his skin. What weighs so heavily is the tiny metal tag in his hand, a solid piece of steel that he will give to Tengu to carve his symbol on, if he so chooses. It's Hashirama's last way of giving him an out should he wish one, or a mark of possession if he accepts the position as Haru's Master. He sets it on the bedside table, folds his legs into formal seiza, and waits for his Dom.

Tobirama ensures the hotel is empty before activating the lock down seals he painted long ago. Hashirama, never a sensor, wouldn't notice, but now Tobirama could be certain that no one else would. Hashirama's reputation would be safe, whatever else happens.

That done, he strides upstairs, opening the door and stepping inside, mask firmly in place. His heart trembles a little at the sight of the tag on the bed, but - that's for later. Right now, Hashirama needs him. Needs  _ him _ . 

"Hands behind your back," he orders at once. Then, once Hashirama complies, he says, "Good. You've told me what you need and you know your safewords; everything else tonight is up to me." 

He doesn't stretch out the experience of binding Hashirama's hands with rope, opting instead to give Hashirama some rough but thoughtful manhandling. First the rope, then the blindfold. 

Tobirama doesn't put in the gag at once, though. Instead, he covers Hashirama's back with his body, using his weight to press Hashirama's body forward towards the floor. "You're beautiful," Tobirama murmurs into Hashirama's ear. "Such pretty lace - you look so pure. It makes me want to get you  _ filthy _ . Are you going to lower yourself into the dirt for me, pet?"

Hashirama bends easily, and the expanse of warm muscle at his back has him sighing. His head tips up to rest his cheek against the hard line of Tengu's jaw, moaning at the words so close to his ear. "Yes, Sir. I'll bend as far as you ask me to," his legs spread to accommodate the shift in his center of gravity, and he hisses at the scratch of a nail against his nipple. Hashirama is already almost fully hard from the binding and blindfolding alone, and his breath shudders when his Dom guides him further down until his cheek presses against the carpet.

Hipbones press against his thighs as he shuffles to lift his backside to accommodate the position, and he squirms, fighting the urge to press back and find out for himself if the sight of him bent like this has pleased his Dom.

"Good," Tobirama says. "Beautiful..."

His hands start to wander - squeezing, pinching, stroking. He tweaks Hashirama's nipples, rakes his nails down Hashirama's back, pinches Hashirama's thighs. He doesn't touch Hashirama's cock at all.

"You're so good for me," Tobirama murmurs. "Such a good little sub, obedient and needy - it makes me want to have you. Makes you want to  _ keep _ you." 

If only Hashirama would let him, once he knows the truth.

His hand slides down into Hashirama's panties, cupping his ass. "I'm going to have to buy you a new set of panties, I think. Because I'm going to ruin you in these."

He sucks in a harsh breath at the scratching down his back, tries to arch up into it, and it escapes as a deep moan at the slide of fingers under the waistband. "Yes," he hisses, "yours, Sir, to have and to ruin." It's a little difficult to string his words together with the insistent pressure between his legs, and they flee him entirely as the silk is pulled to put an indirect pressure on his balls and member as the hot length of Tengu's cock presses against the cleft of his ass. "Ah! Please, Sir, fuck I need you! I'll wear anything you give me, panties, plug, tag-" his voice falters at the heavy grip on the nape of his neck, and he stills the absent grinding he wasn't aware he was doing.

"H-hngh! How do you want me, Sir?"

"You're going to stay still, just like this," Tobirama orders, knowing it's difficult for Hashirama to do, particularly as he starts rocking his hips, rubbing his still-clothed cock against Hashirama's ass. He even pushes the panties down enough to get better access, though he ensures they're still covering Hashirama's cock. 

"I'm going to spank you till your ass turns red," Tobirama growls in Hashirama's ear. "Then I'm going to jerk you off until you cream yourself in your pretty little panties, and then I'm going to use your own cum to slick you up-" With the addition of lube, of course, but the blindfold will keep Hashirama ignorant of that and he'll convince himself that he's not fully prepared, his own mind adding in an extra burn without actually risking tearing him "-and then I'm going to gag you and fuck you until you can't think of anything but me."

He loops his arm around Hashirama's throat and starts to tighten it, mimicking the pressure he'd put on him earlier during their spar. "Tell me your jutsu level, pet. Because by the time I'm done with you, you won't have any words left in your mind - except maybe 'Master, please'..."

The words coupled with the grinding have him trembling with the effort to stay still and please his Dom, whining when a hand slips down to grip him through the silk of his panties, and he can't withhold the desperate moan that crawls up his throat. "Suiton, Sir," it's a little difficult to get it passed the strangling grip of a muscular arm around his neck.

The tight ring of fingers leave his cock, trailing up his hip to his ass before lifting away. Hashirama waits for that first strike, holding his breath with anticipation, and when it comes it’s a hot sting on his skin. His entrance flutters, and he knows Tengu can feel the muscles twitching against his length. It takes a monumental effort not to grind back, especially when the angle of those hips changes and Hashirama is teased with the sensation of a firm cock head pressing where he wants it most.

A second impact of the muscle of his ass, and he has to lock his muscles to stop himself from bucking under the arch of his partner, jaw hanging loose to moan as the blows begin to rain more regularly and the arm around his neck tightens.

Tobirama's cock, now freed from his pants, is rubbing up against Hashirama's ass the way he'd dreamt of since he first learned what his cock was for, and it's better than every dirty fantasy he's ever had. His hand comes down hard on Hashirama's ass and thighs, alternating predictable blows with scratches and thrusts, and Hashirama is doing such a good job staying still for him, all but the trembling he can't contain. "Good boy," Tobirama says, his voice low and harsh with lust he can't suppress. "Good pet, so good for me -"

Hashirama's ass is pink and hot to the touch soon enough, and Tobirama leans back a bit to just soak in the image: Hashirama with his face pressed down only an inch or two from the soft carpet, his legs splayed apart, his ass in the air and Tobirama's hard cock leaking as it rests in the cleft. "Fuck," he hisses, unable to fully contain himself. "You're  _ perfect _ ." 

He leans forward again, fully covering him this time, and he slides his hand into Hashirama's panties. He roughly rolls Hashirama's balls between his fingers, then grasps his cock to start pumping him. "Come for me, pet. I want you nice and loose for me - going to fuck you till you can't walk -"

The hand in his panties and on his balls, warm from spanking his ass, has him moaning helplessly. There's pre-cum dripping between his cheeks, hot and sticky when it reaches his hole, and it takes everything in him not to press back to feel the pressure of it against his entrance. It's thick and hard, and he can almost feel the veins against thin skin. "Yours, just-just for you, Sir," he groans in reply to the praise.

Hashirama is so close, teetering on the edge of cumming, and the first stroke nearly tips him over. His hips jerk involuntarily, and his cries become thin needy whines. Then the words follow, and the thought of having that thick cock in his ass, fucking him until his legs can't take his weight and Tengu filling him-marking him, claiming him, sends him into a howling orgasm. His member jerks in his Doms hand, and the sensation of his semen turning the silk of his panties slippery and dripping down to his balls has him trembling under his Dom-no, "Master!"

"Good boy," Tobirama says. He's so hard it hurts. "Good pet. Such a good pet for your Master. Just for that. I'm going to reward you: you can move as much as you like when I'm fucking you. I want to see you writhe on my cock."

He gives Hashirama a moment to breathe deeply, then he fetches the gag - a ball gag, so he'll still be able to hear Hashirama's moans, but tough enough for Hashirama to bite down without being able to speak. "There we go," he says, working it into Hashirama's mouth. "There we go..."

As he'd promised, he reaches back into Hashirama's now sodden panties to scoop up some of Hashirama's cum, coating his fingers in it before sliding them into Hashirama's ass. He opened a jar of lube earlier, so he uses that as well, fingering Hashirama roughly to get him ready. The rough treatment has Hashirama whimpering and getting hard again, painfully quickly, but that's just what Tobirama wants.

Once Hashirama is fully hard, Tobirama lines himself up. "You're mine," he says, willing it to be true. "Mine to have, mine to keep, mine to fuck. You're my fucktoy today, pet. All mine." With a hand reaching out to tug Hashirama's collar, Tobirama starts pushing in, not too fast but relentless.

Hashirama groans at the press of fingers, slick with his own cum, into his hole. He moans when the stretch burns, clamps his teeth down on the gag in his mouth and whines at the rough thrusts of fingers into him, cock hardening painfully below him at the tingle of overstimulation with each new finger pushed inside.

Then fingers pull away and there's a slippery cockhead pressing against his rim. Hashirama keens, he's not ready, not stretched enough and hungry for the ache of Tengu's member sliding into his too tight hole. He gets just that. His Master's cock is big, thick and textured with raised veins, and when the head pops in Hashirama’s already moaning for more. He meets the pressure with a backwards press of his own, greedy hole pulsing and fluttering as it he's pulled back by the collar. His own member is leaking, jerking at the hard slide over his prostate, and when his Master bottoms out Hashirama can't deny himself. He clamps down, clenching rhythmically to feel the stretch inside him. He moans obscenely, grinding back and wiggling his hips to feel the exquisite thickness in him. His first proper cock, he's been pegged before but never this, and the last one he wants.

A slow withdrawal and he squeezes down, determined to keep his Master in him, and then a pause when all that's left in his pulsing hole is the thick head of his Masters cock.

"I'm your first, aren't I?" Tobirama murmurs, knowing it to be true even before Hashirama nods. "Your first Master, the first man to fuck you like this...no one else will have that." No matter what else happens, even if Hashirama denies it later, that much will always be Tobirama's. 

He's going to hell, but it's worth it.

He puts both hands on Hashirama's hips and casts aside restraint: all that matters now is to fuck Hashirama hard and fast and without mercy, with Hashirama grunting and moaning and whining, and all because of him. Tobirama murmurs stupid things as he goes, words of praise, telling Hashirama how hot he is, how tight, how perfect his reactions are, how desirable he is, how much Tobirama wants him, but it doesnt slow him down in the slightest. "You're going to come on my cock," he tells Hashirama. "I want you to wish you weren't gagged so that you could scream for me."

And wish he does when those hips set their punishing pace. His fingers curl on his back, wishing desperately for something to grasp as tears wet his blindfold. Hashirama braces himself as best he can, pushing desperately back into those thrusts. The smack of thighs against his own, the hard muscle of Tengu's abdomen colliding stingingly with his already burning cheeks has him screaming into the gag.

He tries to beg, and when the words are mangled he uses his body, twisting to get the right angle and clamping down on every backward stroke. The shower of compliments is driving him mad, and he squeezes all the tighter the more depraved they get. He's close, so close he's not sure if he can wait for permission. Hashirama cries, voice going higher the closer he gets. His entrance is pulsing and his cock is weeping into his ruined underwear. His eyes roll behind the blindfold, lids fluttering as he trembles on the edge. He needs to wait, Master needs to- the dam breaks, and Hashirama convulses beneath his Master, cock jerking to spend his seed and entrance clamping down to milk the member in him of cum.

"Good boy!" Tobirama exclaims, unable to resist. Sure, Hashirama hadn't waited, but Tobirama hadn't ordered him to. He'd ordered him to  _ break _ , and break he had, Hashirama's mind empty of everything but his master. Just like he'd requested.

Tobirama takes a few more thrusts, holding Hashirama's body up like a doll and using him to his pleasure, but really, the memory if Hashirama coming like that, without even the touch of his hand, coming in Tobirama's cock alone - that's enough, and Tobirama's coming, too, spilling deep inside of Hashirama. As he does, his teeth come down on Hashirama's neck, leaving an indent, and then he collapses on top of him, both of them in a sweaty satisfied pile.

A few moments of rest, Tobirama stirs. "You feel that?" he murmurs, not sure if he means the bite or the cum or both. "That's me marking you. All mine."

Mindful of his duty, he pulls out gently, lifting a still mostly insensate Hashirama and taking him to the bed before removing the gag, blindfold, and rope. He fetches a cloth and some warm water and sets about cleaning Hashirama up. "You can rest," he tells him. "I took this room for the night; there's no need to rush."

Hashirama hums, voice hoarse and basking in the feeling of a bite bruising on tender skin and the sensation of hot cum dribbling out around his Masters softening cock. When that retreats, he whines, hole twitching closed to keep the last of his Masters seed inside him.

The bed is soft under him, and the hands that clean him are gentle. Hashirama is barely awake for any of it, drifting in and out of a warm, content place as his Master takes care of him. He's never felt this happy, this relaxed, and he cries a little when Master pulls away. He doesn’t want to be alone. He feels so safe and content in the others arms, he wants to spend forever here, and when his Master returns to wrap him in an embrace, only then does Hashirama slide fully into sleep.

Tobirama watches Hashirama sleep for a good long while before forcing himself to slip out of the bed. He goes over to the table and picks up the tag there, closing his eyes momentarily in pain. He wishes - well, it doesn't matter.

Tobirama is not a coward. But he doesn't believe in torturing himself, either.

With his power, it takes little more than a second to inscribe the tag with his hiraishin seal. He's never taken a real sub before, but this is his symbol the way nothing else could ever be. He returns to the bed and tucks it into Hashirama's palm. Then he writes 'I love you' in his own unmistakable handwriting and leaves the note under the knot of wood Hashirama gave him, both lying on the table where Hashirama will be unable to miss it once he sits up.

And then he goes home.

Dawn wakes him, the glint of sunshine off metal catching him in the eye. Hashirama sits up, rubs his eyes, and looks at the engraving on his tag. His blood freezes in his veins. And then he catches sight of the note, of his knot of wood, and suddenly his blood burns far too hot. His chakra shatters the seal, warping the floorboards beneath his feet as he stands to dress. The note, the tag, the knot of wood and his collar he stuffs into his pocket before grabbing his bag and leaping out of the window.

Hashirama is probably lucky that there's nobody out and about at this hour to see him leaving, other than the ANBU that now give him a wide berth. Trees shudder and shake at his passing, branches twisting and curling with his temper. A wood clone takes his bag home, and the rest of the short journey to Tobirama’s house on the edge of town is quiet.

He's gentle with the door, walks quiet down the hall to seat himself in the armchair that Tobirama loves so much. His chakra spreads throughout the house, growing branches over the windows and the doors, letting only a sparse amount of sunlight in through bare limbs. There he waits for Tobirama to wake, his promise a roughness under his thumb and the tag an unmissable weight in the pocket opposite his collar. He's not smiling, not sneering, just still, marks of his sage mode tingling where they itch to surface.

Tobirama is honestly amazed he managed to fall asleep at all that night, but apparently truly fantastic orgasms really do it for him. Which to be fair is probably not a surprise, but it also suggests he's never actually had one before now.

That doesn't mean he doesn't know the second Hashirama comes in, though it takes him a short while to remember why Hashirama has come to visit today, so unusually and uncharacteristically reticent about invading Tobirama's personal space. A glance at the windows shows that no escape is possible, but - he wouldn't have. If he was going to run from this, the time to do that was before any of this even started. 

Still, he gets up and puts on his black clothes, an inferior armor but all he will permit himself, before he goes out to the main room where Hashirama is waiting for him, expressionless.

"Anija," Tobirama says from the door. He hopes he's still allowed to do that.

"Good morning, Otoutou. Did you sleep well? I had an... interesting dream. Imagine how surprised I was to find this," he lifts the tag, flips it so that the Hiraishin, Tobirama's unmistakable symbol, faces his brother. Hashirama stand, approaches his last little brother slowly. Tobirama doesn't move, refuses to flinch when Hashirama raises his fist, but this is his last little brother and Hashirama will never strike him in anger. Instead he uncurls his fist, palm up, to show Tobirama the little knot of wood.

He made a promise. While Hashirama knows he's got a terrible track record with those, this is important, this is one he needs to keep. "You don't make jokes like this. So, I want you to explain," he says softly. This is something between them, a secret, and Hashirama lifts a pale hand to drop his promise into his siblings palm and curls long fingers closed. Then he makes for the kitchen, and tea.

Tobirama keeps the tea, pots and leaves, exactly where Hashirama does at home, and he brews a pot for them both. His brother joins him at the Kotatsu, sits without slumping, and Hashirama knows he's steeling himself. He's never  _ looked _ at Tobirama like this, but the note and the tag have opened his eyes to just how striking his brother is. There's and austere sort of beauty in the sharp lines of his face, so different from Hashirama's conventional broad handsome features, and he allows his eyes to wander down Tobirama's body, displayed so well in the fitting blacks that he favors as he waits for his brother to speak.

Tobirama considers the matter carefully, too focused to notice his brother's thoughtful gaze. He could take the coward's approach - it was for you, to protect you, same as always, you know I never know when to stop - but no. It's time.

He takes the tea Hashirama offers him and bows his head, looking into the depths of the teacup. He will not minimize or evade. It's time for the truth, come what may. 

"There is no joke," he says, not raising his head. He will tell the truth, but he will not see the expression on Hashirama's face as understanding dawns; that small mercy he will grant himself, however uncharacteristic his refusal to look up may be. "There has never been anyone in my heart but you. I know it is - inappropriate, but it remains. When I saw your correspondence by chance, my desires overwhelmed me."

Then he stops. He never liked to use five words when one would do, and that explains everything. He's been in love with Hashirama his whole life; he has stolen one night for himself; let the consequences fall where they may.

The averted gaze catches his attention. Tobirama's never been... shy before, and yet that's with this is. Shy and ashamed and suddenly so much younger. This is his little brother, the same little brother that he caught reading scrolls in the library long after their father bid they go to bed. Hashirama can't hate him. He's still angry, and it still hurts that there had been a lie.

"I'm not going to hate your for this," he says slowly. "When you came to me all those years ago I thought you'd just misplaced your affections, that they'd manifested for me simply because you didn't have someone else that you were close to at the time, but you're a grown man now and you know what you want. What you feel for me isn't what makes me angry, it's how you lied and the invasion of my privacy."

Hashirama leans forward, tips his brothers chin up to look into those beautiful eyes. "I'll never hate you Tobi, but at the moment I feel more than just a little used." He's not going to mince words, a part of him still burns with anger, and perhaps that's why Hashirama’s next action is so unlike himself. He drags his brother in for a kiss, ignores the lack of response and kisses with all the dark fire in his chest, biting pale lips purple with bruises and licks away the little droplets of blood that arise.

When Hashirama pulls away he gives Tobirama a dark grin, tinted pink with what he's taken, and presses the little knot of wood into the table. It will stay there, to remind Tobirama of the lie he told. "Am I still a good boy? Do you still want me, now that I know," he's being spiteful, he knows that, and yet that twisted angry part of him won't let him walk away. Hashirama leans forward again, and the next words are hissed so close to Tobirama’s ear that his lips brush the red line on his siblings cheek. "Do you still want me to cum on your cock, just as I am, Little Brother? I must admit, I've never cum as hard as I did under your hands."

With that, Hashirama stands. He considers his tag for a moment, before clipping it to his collar. "I think it's only fair I use you in return. I'll come to you... Tengu."

Tobirama looks up at Hashirama, helpless. Hashirama is angry with him, deeply angry. and he knows it to be his fault. He stole something that was not his to take. He used his brother's body to satisfy his aching heart, and what he gets in return he deserves.

This isn't what Tobirama wanted, this anger that Hashirama does not call hate but which is not as far as he might think. This isn't love, it's spite, and Tobirama knows that spite is quickly used up and then regretted. But then, he was always the one Hashirama regretted: too much their father's son, too much the loyalist, too talented the soldier, too stern, too focused, never enough. The affection Madara won just by existing Tobirama has never even had a chance to compete for.

He should have known this - this pity, this scorn - was the best he'd ever get. No more of Hashirama lying beneath him, calling his name in untainted pleasure - he didn't want this. Not like this.

So much for Hashirama's promise to listen without judgment, he supposes. He should have known better than to hope even for the balm of honest hatred. That was for equals, someone Hashirama respected; Tobirama was only his foolish, cruel, selfish brother.

"I want you," he says, because it's the truth. His voice is stern as ever, but its usually sharp edge is dull and lifeless. "I will always want you. I want you to cum on my cock calling my name; I want to bring you pleasure and to see you writhe beneath me. Use me as you will."

One of the few positive aspects of being Hokage, is that he can give himself the day off. Hashirama is sorely tempted to do just that, to go home and lay in bed. Madara is back, and he'd like nothing more than to spar, but at the same time that doesn't feel like what he needs. Hashirama has no idea what to do with all of this burning restless energy based in an anger that's turning into something bitter, so he goes to work.

For the first time in his life, he spends a day without talking. It would amuse him in any other situation, how people part before him, how they quiet when he passes, but Hashirama’s not in the mood to be amused. He does all the paperwork that appears on his desk, and when his best friend pokes his head into his doorway, Madara takes one look at him and quietly shuts the door.

The counsel meeting is the shortest one he's ever had. There's no shouting, no arguing, just a gaggle of wrinkled old Shinobi that won't meet his eye.

Tobirama is well aware of Hashirama's unusual moodiness, and even if he wasn't constantly monitoring his brother he would know because everyone keeps fucking telling him. First some of the couriers who usually ignore him just casually popping by to ask if he's seen his brother today, then the more important visitors, then a few harried looking members of the council...

When  _ Madara _ shows up with a concerned expression, Tobirama has had quite enough and just hiraishins out of there before the other man can get a single word out. 

Childish? Undoubtedly. But for all that he's been his brother's keeper all his life, comforting Madara about Hashirama right now is just truly beyond his capacity.

He returns to his desk after that impromptu 'lunch break', although he did not actually eat. He finishes the work he'd assigned himself for the day and walks in to Hashirama's (deserted) office with the results without hesitation. This isn't the first time Hashirama's been disappointed in him, after all, and Tobirama doesn't know how to deal with it so he does what he always does: keeps moving forward through the pain.

He knew Hashirama's scorn would be the price he'd pay for what he did. It doesn't make paying it any easier. It's not like Hashirama would have accepted a confession from him, no matter how Hashirama claims it's about 'how' it happened rather than what. Tobirama was wrong to act, wrong to feel, and this is just - justice.

"My suggestions for several ongoing infrastructure projects, the mission list, and the current supply," he says, his voice still dull. He can't seem to help it, though he's tried to suppress it; at the very least the content of his words is the same. "And if you are feeling restless, I can assist you this evening."

He could be referring to a spar, but he isn't. Hashirama wants Tengu, not Tobirama - so what? It's hardly the first time Tobirama has been somebody else for Hashirama. He'd played the Madara Hashirama secretly wanted during those years of war, he'd been their Father when Hashirama needed someone to rail against, he'd been the perfect secretary and right hand to build their current government, a faceless drone that delivered up work...whatever Hashirama needed him to be, he was. If Hashirama wants Tengu, he can have him.

Mito, who in her infinite (irritating) wisdom has bugged the office with seals, indirectly ensures that her husband hears every word that leaves Tobirama's mouth. "Husband, what's going on?" the question is blithe and open and innocent, and the blank look of surprise on her face when he sets the tag and its unmistakable mark on the table is mildly satisfying.

"And how do you feel about that?"

"How do you think I feel?! He invaded my privacy, he used me! I'm angry, betrayed and-"

"Turned on," Hashirama whirls to face her. Her face is unusually open, her smile is warm, and it makes him feel like the butt of some twisted joke. Mito approaches him, lays a hand on his arm and turns his face toward herself.

"Stop lying to yourself, Hashirama."

"What do you want me to do?! Let my own brother fuck me into the mattress?!"

"I want you to stop pushing him away because you keep telling yourself that you don't love him  _ like that _ . He's not going to change, and if you keep wasting your life in denial you're going to chase him away."

"Oh, now I'm chasing  _ him _ away!"

"And being a little less selfish and narrow minded wouldn’t hurt, either."

He's not proud of walking out on her. It's the first time, the only time, but her words hurt and Hashirama's not so thick skulled that he can't recognise the pain of truth. He's spent so long running away from Tobirama because he doesn't know what to do with all that fire that his brother brings out in him. In fact all he has done is project what he feels onto someone else.

Civilian and Shinobi alike scatter before him, and he pushes the black glove that tries to grab him outside Tobirama’s office aside with an absent, "not now, Madara." His brother is at his desk, bent over his paperwork as always, and Hashirama takes a moment he's never spared before just to admire how the last rays of sunlight turn white locks to spun gold.

The collar makes a solid thud on the table, and the scratch of Tobirama’s pen halts. "Can we get a drink first?"

Tobirama is not sure what the meaning of Hashirama's actions are. He'd made the offer earlier under the assumption that Hashirama would pick a time, have him show up to perform, and then banish him again once the farce was over with; why is Hashirama asking to drink first? And why put the collar on the table? Does he want Tobirama to attach it to his neck in a grotesque parody of how Tobirama would love to do it: to properly collar someone who wanted to be his, who trusted him? 

Still, he's been obedient to Hashirama's wishes his whole life; he's not going to change now. "I have some sake here," he says, eyes not lifting from the table. He doesn't ask any questions. "As well as at home. We could also go to a restaurant if you prefer." Tobirama generally hated restaurants - too loud, too crowded - but Hashirama liked them and with his sealing skills he could ensure their conversation was not overheard.

When Tobirama doesn’t move, Hashirama rounds the table and pushes his brothers chair back to make room for himself. His hands come up on either side of Tobirama’s face, and his brother holds still and allows Hashirama to shape mokuton around his eyes and down his nose. "I... don't think a crow suits you," he says when he's done, lifting his hands away to let Tobirama feel the lines of the owl mask.

Then he pushes the collar into Tobirama’s hand, and spreads his brothers legs to kneel between them and affix his own mask. Hashirama lifts his hair away, tilts his head to bare his throat and murmurs, "Take me home, Master."

Tobirama's hands shake slightly. He doesn't understand. Why would Hashirama make him an owl mask? Especially one made of such pale wood, light enough that it suits his white hair and skin as if made for it - which of course it was. It would look ugly on someone darker, like the henge Tobirama had chosen for Tengu. Doesn't Hashirama want Tengu?

No matter. Tobirama will always do everything in his power to give his brother whatever he wants, even himself. And to have something this close to what he wants...what pain, what bliss.

He reaches down to catch Hashirama's face in his hands, his thumbs gliding gently along Hashirama's cheeks and the mask above them. Such a beloved face.

He doesn't speak as he fixes the collar onto Hashirama's neck. "I'll take care of you," he promises, meaning it entirely. One hand lingers on the collar, thumb on the tag, and the other slips into Hashirama's hair to grasp it tightly. A little tug is enough to make Hashirama's eyes flutter, and in that moment of inattention Tobirama activates his hiraishin, and they are in his home by the time Hashirama's eyes open again.

"What do you want tonight?" he asks. Hashirama might call him Master, but Tobirama knows he's doing this on Hashirama's sufferance and nothing more.

"Share a drink with me, let me taste it from you and then take me slowly. I want to feel your marks burning on every inch of me before I taste your cock. Those are my only requests, Master. The rest lies in your hands. My one condition is that there will be no penetration tonight. I'm not-not ready for that just yet,"  _ not ready for you _ is what he means. Not now that he knows this is his little brother and not an anonymous stranger.

Hashirama tugs against the hand in his hair, letting a soft whine slip as he leans forward to press his face against the crease of his siblings thigh and uses his teeth to pull at the fabric over the bulge in Tobirama’s blacks. Fingers scratching at his scalp make him shiver, and a harder tug as he fiddles with his obi draws a low hiss of pleasure.

"Okay," Tobirama whispers. "Okay. I'll take care of you." That's all he's ever wanted, after all. Penetration is easy enough to give up.

His hands are gentle at first, tugging at Hashirama's hair, helping him removing his clothes until he's naked. "Kneel," he orders. "Hands behind your back."

Once Hashirama is in position, Tobirama fetches some dinner. He alternates between feeding Hashirama bites and giving him sips of sake. "You mentioned you wanted discipline," he drawls when he sees Hashirama's growing frustration - though his glares are undercut by his rising erection. "I'll give you what you want - but on /my/ terms." A lie, of course: what Hashirama wanted was for someone else to be in control. and Tobirama could give him that.

It's difficult to be so patient. Hashirama had thought Tobirama would use this opportunity to take what he likes and leave them both mostly satisfied. Being fed is not what he'd expected, and being turned on by it is an even bigger surprise.

When they're done, and the last tastes of dinner are purged with the burn of rice wine, Hashirama's battling for restraint, cock dripping and aching between his legs. Tengu guides him up onto his feet, and walks him to the bedroom with a finger through the loop of his collar. His tag taps against his throat with every step, and he could almost cry when he sees the bed. His Master guides him down to kneel spread legged on the bed, and then there's a spark of chakra that has Hashirama shivering with anticipation.

Tobirama takes a moment to just  _ look _ at Hashirama, then smiles faintly once he's walked into Hashirama's blind spot. Beautiful. So beautiful- and so angry. But Tobirama can't be angry with him in return; he never has been, doesn't know how. So...yes, he can do this. He can give Hashirama what he wants - and do what he himself wants, too.

"You are to hold still," he instructs. "If you don't, I will punish you. If you do, I will reward you."

There's an old cane hidden long ago in the corner of his room: thin and sharp and flexible, but capable of delivering precise strikes that would burn but not break the skin. It's the same one used in their childhood, in fact, and Tobirama thinks Hashirama will have a certain appreciation for misusing such an item - and as he may have only this one time to touch his brother as  _ himself _ , why not go all out?

That thought in mind, he brings the cane down, whistling as it slices through the air to land on Hashirama's back, turning the area beneath red at once, though with Hashirama's healing it begins to fade at once. Hashirama yelps and Tobirama doesn't smirk, though he vaguely wants to. "Count them."

"One," he growls, and Hashirama can't believe that  _ this _ is the cane Tengu has chosen. The burn is familiar, as is the sound it makes when it comes down for another strike. "Two," the ache of it travels to his groin even as it fades from his back. The third stroke and count sparks the heavy burning weight of angry lust in his belly to match the ache of desire between his legs, but Hashirama doesn't move.

They're edging towards fifteen blows, and he's been counting them dutifully, when the first hot tendrils of orgasm twist in his groin. He's getting close now, and Hashirama’s not ready for Tengu to break him.  _ To admit defeat _ , the angry Older Brother in him whispers. The part of him that's been thirsting secretly after his sibling, so deeply hidden that Hashirama hadn't even known it was there. His eyes narrow, lips twisting in a smirk as his chakra bends and curls into a ring around the base of his cock, stopping him from reaching his peak.

It’s torture, but he's always been rather spiteful. If Tengu wants him to cum, he'll have to drive Hashirama so out of his mind with lust and pleasure that his control breaks. His cock aches, weeping a steady stream of pre-cum to dirty his brothers sheets, and by the count of a very breathy "twenty", he's grinning on an edge that he refuses to tip over.

Tobirama knows what Hashirama is doing to himself - of course he does; he's a sensor. Hashirama wants to win, or, rather, Hashirama wants Tobirama to work hard to deserve what he's getting. Only Hashirama would know Tobirama well enough to know that denying himself is the best way to deny Tobirama.

It doesn't matter, though. Hashirama's internet history revealed that his interest was new and light, while Tobirama had been enticed into the world of sexual sadism as far back as his first partner. He has experience - and some tricks up his sleeve.

He gets Hashirama to twenty five strokes, then drops the cane to step forward, wrapping himself around Hashirama's body, pressing into the not-yet-faded welts. He puts his hands onto Hashirama's nipples, pinching and twisting them. and then drops one hand to Hashirama's balls, and, with his mouth by Hashirama's ear, he whispers, "Good boy."

Raiton, his secondary element, flickers through his fingers to cause a mild electric shock right where it would be most painful - and the most pleasurable.

The clatter of wood on wood makes him want to turn, and the soft padding of footsteps approaching make resisting difficult. He hisses a sigh of pleasure at the fabric against burning hot skin. The rough treatment of his nipples makes him shudder and moan, back arching to chase the feeling, and then there's a hand between his legs and a whisper of praise at his ear.

Hashirama has a moment to wonder what he's gotten himself into, before there's a spark where he's most sensitive. The scream is out before he can stop it, his muscles trembling with the urge to stay still. It's exquisitely painful to be shocked there, and he's grunting and moaning as the electricity makes his tendons twitch. His chakra control wavers, and it takes a gargantuan effort to hold the ring tight enough that no more than a few heavy drops of cum dribble out. Just let go, he could, and it's so tempting. But Hashirama isn't ready to admit this to himself yet, to admit that he'd bend as far as his brother bid him, if Tobirama (Tengu!) was to ask.

Tobirama leans down and  _ bites _ , giving Hashirama no relief from the sensations he's evoking in him. There is no room for mercy here: this is a challenge. Hashirama wants Tobirama to break him - and Tobirama will always give Hashirama what he wants.

The hand at Hashirama's chest goes up, wrapping around Hashirama's neck and tightening: cutting air down, making it hard to breathe, and Tobirama shocks him again, and again.

A small smirk curls his lips. He's not done yet. Hashirama wants to be overwhelmed? Tobirama will oblige.

His shadow clone jutsu was extremely complex and long in the making; he made a million mistakes, a million failures, in the process. One of those failures was a jutsu that creates shadow hands but no body - Tobirama uses that now, hands reaching out to touch Hashirama all over. His nipples, his belly, his cock - and even one long finger gliding purposefully over Hashirama's hole. No penetration, as promised, but the threat - or promise - of it.

"Come for me," Tobirama whispers cruelly in his beloved brother's ear as he consumes him with sensation. "Come for me -  _ anija _ ."

He trembles in Tengu's arms, heart thudding in his chest and mind clamouring with the need to win and the desire to give in. His Master is undoing him at the seams, and would be so easy to lean back into strong arms and let himself be taken care of, but he  _ can't _ .

Long, elegant fingers curl around his throat, making it hard to breathe and turning his moans at the electricity between his legs into strangled and desperate whimpers. And then there are fingers on his skin.

Hands caress him, trailing cold fire across his skin as they map the contours of his body. Fingers pinching his nipples, scratching blunt nails down his abdomen and following the trail of hair down to grip his cock. The stroke of a rough callous over his hole has his hips jerking, the tight ring of chakra at his base loosening and allowing smaller gushes of clear liquid from his cockhead.

Then there is the whisper of permission, of  _ command _ at his ear in what is unmistakably his brothers voice, and the beloved Nickname that he will now be unable to hear without all his blood rushing south.

Hashirama's vision swims, and he's unsure whether its with tears or lack of oxygen, but that word breaks him. "Tobirama!" He's screaming, and it's his brothers name, but he's too overwhelmed to care as he streaks deep blue sheets with pearly white.

Tobirama's eyes flutter closed for a moment - a beautiful, perfect moment that he burns into his brain as relentlessly as a Sharingan, a moment he will treasure his whole life - and he exhales. His name. His brother who he loves so much, calling out  _ his name _ ...

But now is not the time to dwell. Hashirama is overwhelmed and subsumed in bliss, but Tobirama needs to care for him as he comes down. He's been abandoned before without the appropriate care before and he'd hated it; he would never do it to another.

He helps Hashirama down to the bed, pulling off the stained cover sheets and letting Hashirama lie down. "You did well," he tells him absently, fetching a cloth that he uses to start cleaning Hashirama's body. "Thank you for this night, anija. Even if you despise me, I thank you for your kindness." He won't say it was worth it - it wasn't - but it was something. After this, Hashirama will truly despise him: he wanted the use of Tobirama's body, his skillful hands, and Tobirama could give him that, should be satisfied in giving him just that, but Tobirama still wanted more. Always more than his brother could give.

Hashirama's eyes are closed, though Tobirama does not think he's asleep. Ignoring his own painful erection, he leans down an presses a kiss to Hashirama's forehead - he doesn't dare steal the kiss he really wants, having stolen enough.

The weight on the bed leans away, and he knows he should be happy and satisfied, and he  _ is _ , but it feels so shallow without the warm body there. He hopes Tobirama will forgive him for being greedy, and he hates himself for reaching out and grasping his siblings clothes. Tobirama comes slowly, and he drags his little brother down under the sheets. Hashirama presses warm fingers under the soft black shirt, lifting it and leaning down languidly to lavish the pale skin there with his lips and his tongue.

He kisses his way down, tracing the dip between his brothers perfect abdominal muscles to tug at the snowy trail of his love line with his teeth. His fingers trail up to feel the strength of his brothers back, digging nails in and dragging them down to lift Tobirama's pants away to get at the bulge beneath, though he doesn't touch it yet. He's going to get Tobirama back for this. Hashirama may be submitting, but he's not weak, no matter what the voice in the back of his head says about his actions.

Tobirama allows himself to be dragged down, assuming that Hashirama wants a warm body - any warm body - but then Hashirama presses him down and starts kissing his way down Tobirama's belly. "Anij- ah!" he exclaims, surprised at the feel of teeth. He drops his hands down to Hashirama's shoulders. "You know you don't have to, right?" he says, an unfamiliar note of helplessness in his voice. This isn't what he expected at all.

Hashirama says nothing, allows Tobirama's hands on his shoulders with the knowledge that his brother will stop him if that's truly what he wants. His attention turns to Tobirama’s thighs, strong and pale, and when he bites and sucks there the marks bloom purple and red like spring flowers cropping up among snow.

Hissed breaths and pressure digging into his shoulders makes him smirk against soft skin, and he pulls away his brothers underwear to expose the hardness beneath. Tobirama's cock is thick, and it's an odd kind of pleasant to see the veins he'd only felt before. The head is a ruddy red, almost purple and weeping pre-cum that he licks away eagerly just to hear his sibling gasp before he kisses down to take Tobirama’s balls into his mouth.  _ This _ , he reminds himself,  _ is an act of spite _ . And he ignores the tightening of a lie in his chest.

Tobirama bites his lips near to bleeding. He doesn't understand. There's no need for Hashirama to touch him - Tobirama will serve him freely without requesting recompense. 

But - no. Now that he thinks of it, it becomes clear. Hadn't Hashirama explicitly stated that he wanted to taste Tobirama - no, not Tobirama, regardless of the slip up earlier,  _ Tengu _ \- to taste Tengu's cock? Tobirama hadn't given it to him, so he was taking it for himself.

This isn't meant as a gift. It's meant as a lesson.

Tobirama quietly removes his hands from Hashirama's shoulders and clenches the sheets instead. He wishes his disappointment was enough to him less hard, but actually the rush of humiliation and self-disgust makes his cock twitch more. He loves Hashirama so much it burns him, and he's gotten used to it. To have this much of Hashirama is already more than he could have dreamed to have - anything Hashirama gives him, even punishment, is worth having.

His brothers cock twitches against his nose, and Hashirama wonders what's going through his head. He shouldn't be thinking, it's a submissives job to please their Master just as much as the opposite is true. Tobirama has given him his pleasure, so much of it that he broke despite his best efforts. Hashirama is being greedy in returning the favour, the desire to get back at his sibling for bringing something so long buried to the surface.

The hands leave his shoulders, and Hashirama replaces them with firm thighs. He laves his tongue against Tobirama's cockhead before slowly sinking down further. His brother is by no means a small man, despite the fact that Hashirama has a few centimetres on him in height, and it takes him a few tries to take Tobirama to the base. He's never given a blowjob before, but he's received enough to know what he likes.

He swallows around his brothers head, drawing back and dragging a hint of teeth up sensitive skin and digging his tongue in after beads of pre-cum that smear over his taste buds. The thighs on his shoulders are tense, and he runs his fingers over the whipcord muscle to feel the strength in them.

Tobirama groans, a rare sound for him - he's usually pretty quiet in bed, rarely losing control, rarely giving in. Even when he permitted previous lovers to service him, which he did not often do, his mind was usually half given to other issues - his research, his work, or whatever his brother was up to that probably needed to be averted into something useful.

Not this time. 

This is  _ Hashirama _ . Tobirama loves him so much, so very much. Hashirama consumes his thoughts and has for all of his life. Tobirama doesn't  _ care _ if Hashirama wishes he were someone else - it's still Hashirama, he's here, he's in Tobirama's bed, touching him. Tobirama can pretend this is more than the grotesque farce that it really is.

"Good pet," he says, his voice a little breathy, and he suppresses the sign of weakness immediately, tone returning to normal. "It feels good. You're doing well for me. Good."

The deep thrum of his Masters voice, the groan of pleasure, sends a shiver down his spine. He's never heard his sibling in the throes of pleasure, never heard any hint of breathy loss of control in his voice, not even when Tengu (Tobirama) was balls deep inside him. He wonders where he's lacking, and the smoothing of his voice triggers something competitive in him.

Hashirama lavishes his brothers cock with careful attention, taking note of what twitches the thighs on his shoulders. Tobirama enjoys a hint of teeth, fists clench in the sheets when Hashirama curls his tongue under the edge of his cockhead against the thin skin there.

A press of his knuckle against Tobirama's perineum as he flicks his tongue against the tendon under his brothers head, and Tobirama bucks just a little deeper into his mouth. Hashirama looks up, into shadowed red eyes under the bone pale wood of the owl mask, and does it again.

Tobirama's lips are red from his teeth and as Hashirama works him over with enthusiasm he can't help it when his mouth gaped open a little as he gasps for air. It's good. It's  _ very _ good - and best of all, it's just ever so slightly amateur, confirming that Tobirama is the first man that Hashirama has so serviced. 

When Hashirama swipes not once but twice at his entrance, Tobirama forces himself up to look at his brother, lips twisting a little. He wonders if Hashirama would like to fuck him. It's wouldn't be that unusual in his circles for a Master to demand his submissive's services in this way too, to lie back and give commands as if they were directing a beast. 

Tobirama's never done that before. No one's ever even asked, not that he would have agreed. But - he doesn't think he would object if it was Hashirama. He meets Hashirama's eyes, wondering what he's thinking.

His brothers parted lips are bloodied, and Hashirama’s own turn up at the corners just a little at the achievement. His finger, slick with saliva, teases at his brothers hole. It's strange, to have the opportunity to reverse things a little, but he's not sure. He's never thought of topping before, but if it was his Masters wish, he would do as he's told.

Hashirama's finger slides in as his mouth retreats, and he licks at Tobirama’s tip before letting his cock slide out entirely to rest against his lips. "What is your bidding, Master? How would you like me to serve you?"

Tobirama stares at Hashirama, who looks - obscene, really, looking up at him with . He tenses a little when he feels the finger slide into him, just from lack of familiarity, but he relaxes a moment later. Despite everything, he trusts Hashirama more than anything - no matter how angry, no matter what. After all, if Hashirama wanted to hurt him, wouldn't Tobirama be willing to give him his pain as well? Since that was true, what was the point of worry?

"I wouldn't mind it if you wanted to fuck me," he says straightforwardly. There's no reason to dissemble: this is a service he's providing. "But I've never done it before, so I will likely be incapable of giving orders during the first time, and you're still under the influence of our earlier activities. I leave that decision to you."

After all, just because they're Master and sub doesn't mean this stuff doesn't need to be discussed. You don't change the established terms of a scene in the middle without agreement; you just don't.

Hashirama takes a moment to think, before focusing his chakra into his palm. The shape he grows is familiar, a copy of his own cock, but a little smaller. By Tobirama's admission, this is the first time he's doing this and Hashirama refuses to hurt his brother no matter how angry he may be. "Would this be acceptable, Master," he gazes into deep ruby eyes to measure the comfort in them.

The toy is broken from his palm easily, and he presses another finger in, the entry made easy by condensing his chakra into a slippery liquid on his fingers.

Hashirama misunderstood: Tobirama would be willing even if it was him. But since this does seem to be something Hashirama wants, Tobirama is willing.

He spreads his legs and leans back on the bed, keeping his eyes on Hashirama. "Yes. Stretch me, pet, and then fuck me with that. You don't get to come again until you've made me come." With his self-control, that might take a while - though this  _ is _ Hashirama...

When his Master spreads his legs, Hashirama returns his attention to the cock between them. Stretching the tight hole around his fingers is something he savours and does slowly, stroking fluttering walls and brushing occasionally over his Masters prostate. 

He has his work cut out for him, but Hashirama is nothing if not stubborn, he  _ will _ make Tengu cum. He swallows his Master's cock down to the base, careful not to gag, and strokes up against that special spot inside that has his legs tensing as he works in a third finger.

Tobirama keeps his eyes on Hashirama, watching his brother suck his cock as he slides his fingers inside of him. He feels the bright spark of pleasure from his prostate, the feel of a tongue on his cock...it's all good, but nothing compares to it being  _ Hashirama _ doing it.

Tobirama won't be so easy to overwhelm, though. He was the one trained by their family to endure anything - the spare, brother of the heir, the one who went forth on behalf of the clan to negotiate, was always the first to be captured and tormented. 

Tobirama's lips quirk up in the faintest hint of a challenging smirk. Hashirama wants a challenge to overcome? Try him.

Hashirama sees the twitch of a smirk on his brothers face, and he knows that like any other spar, he'll have to work for victory. Tobirama is a genius with an intellect that nobody can match, but Hashirama's not stupid either. He's a practiced medi-nin, the strongest in their clan, and has spent many years studying the human body. His brother is an unparalleled sensor, and that's not always a good thing.

That knowledge serves him well now. He sends his chakra out on tendrils, sweeping up into Tobirama’s hole and filling it with warmth like afternoon sunlight. Then he spreads it through the rest of his Masters body, turning nerves sensitive as he brushes it up under Tobirama's skin. His cock, in particular. Every brush of his tongue, every swallow, every press of his lips, his Master will feel it tenfold.

Tobirama's body arcs up despite himself and his hands clench. His brother's chakra is bright and beautiful, blinding, but he'd learned to live with it near him - but this is the first time it has been  _ inside _ of him. 

He gurgles a little, his fingers clenching until his knuckles go white, as Hashirama  _ tweaks _ his nervous system. His body is suddenly so much more sensitive: he can feel the wind against his skin, the water in Hashirama's breath, the brush of his clothing. And then Hashirama touches him and it's so pleasurable that it almost hurts. 

He grits his teeth, but he can't keep his head from rolling back as the sensations sweep through his body. Hashirama's mouth is hot and his tongue - fuck. His fingers are inside of him, and his body shakes - but he doesn't yield. Not yet.  _ Not yet. _

The lines of his brothers body steal his breath. He can see the ridges of muscle up Tobirama’s belly, the tense peaks of rosy nipples and the sharp red line of the tattoo on his chin. The  _ sounds _ his Master makes because of  _ him _ curl something heady and proud into the power he's spread through Tobirama's body. He's-he's in love, deeply in love and there's no hiding just how warm it makes him.

Hashirama shifts the source of sunshine from his fingers to the tongue against Tobirama's base and the throat that tightens around his cockhead, and then he nudges the toy in slowly. Teasingly pressing it in to allow his brothers hole to stretch at a comfortable pace. The head slips in, and he gives Tobirama a moment to breathe before he presses the rest in all the way to the base, angled to rub up against that sensitive bundle of nerves.

Tobirama forces his body to relax when Hashirama pushes the toy in, but if it wasn't for the curl of warm-happy power inside of him, he's not sure he would manage as well as he does. He's just not accustomed to this, and he's a lover of routine in the normal course of things. Not that anything that has happened in the last few days is normal...

Hashirama only gives him a moment before he starts moving again, maneuvering the toy in and out of him at an accelerating pace.  _ Fucking _ him with the toy. 

"G-good," Tobirama gets out through the crashing waves of pleasure. His cock, his ass, it's all coming together to torment him. If he gets the chance, he'll have to do this back at Hashirama, see how  _ he _ likes it. "Anija -"

Hashirama grins up at him. Mercy is definitely not on the table today, and Tobirama summons all of his willpower. He needs to last long enough to make this good for Hashirama. For Hashirama. he can do anything. He can be Tengu, he can spread his legs, he can last a little longer, no matter how his vision has started to narrow and his body screams at him. begging for release, as he edges closer and closer to the edge.

Seeing the pleasure in those eyes, hearing it in the falter of his Masters words, is pushing him towards the edge as well. His chakra is feeding dampened sensations back to him, and though he's already peaked once, he's almost at his own breaking point again.

He feeds his pleasure into the body under him, tweaks his Master's nipples and moans around the thickness in his throat. Hashirama can feel the tension in his brother, the iron will is cracking, and he presses the toy up to strike his brothers prostate on a hard thrust as his own balls tighten with orgasm.

He screams desperately, pushing the impression of his brothers name into his own chakra where it swirls around Tobirama’s cock. His hips buck, lids fluttering closed over his eyes as his pleasure roars through him to spill on the sheets. Hashirama swallows deeply around the twitching cock in his mouth, forcing his eyes open to see ecstasy crest in his brothers gaze.

The feedback effect of Hashirama's chakra flaring in pleasure through every nerve in Tobirama's body is too much, far too much, and Tobirama cracks and yields at last, his body arching up as he comes harder than he ever has in his life. 

"Anija," he moans, vision whiting out. "Anija, anija..." 

He's still trembling from the strength of it a few minutes later when Hashirama lets his soft cock slip out of his mouth. He licks his lips several times, wanting to keep the persona of the dom, wanting to praise Hashirama for a job  _ very _ well done, but he can't speak. So instead he puts his hand on Hashirama's head, stroking through his hair, hoping the feeling, whatever it is, is conveyed.

The taste of Tobirama’s cum is thick and heady in his mouth, and Hashirama shivers at the overwhelming brightness his brother presses against his chakra. It's so warm, so heavy that it washes his mind clear but for the feeling of what he realises later... is love. Boundless, endless love that Tobirama’s kept trapped behind clenched teeth.

Hashirama crawls up his brother's shaking body, and gently lifts both their masks away. Tobirama's eyes are unfocused and glassy when they open, and his hand runs almost absently through Hashirama's silky fall of hair. He waits until some clarity returns to his siblings gaze, and leans down to gift him a slow and tender kiss before collapsing to snuggle down against a pale chest.

"My Otouto."

Tobirama is dazed from the orgasm, dazed from - everything that has happened these past few days. It's been like a dream, a terrible wonderful dream, and his emotions have been up and down and torn from side to side. Hashirama wants, he gives; Hashirama hates, he yields; Hashirama seeks spiteful revenge, he complies...but how is he to understand how Hashirama is acting now?

To kiss him? To curl within his arms? To call him otouto with warmth in his voice, which Tobirama had already resigned himself not to hear again in this lifetime?

He continues petting Hashirama's hair almost mechanically, unable to stop but lost in confusion. Hashirama doesn't want him, his perverse brother that stole an experience he wanted to give to another; Hashirama was angry at him; Hashirama decided to punish him by demanding his body...all this he could understand. But this? What is this? 

Why is Hashirama pretending as if he loves him, that long buried dream? Why?

Tobirama's eyes are strangely glassy, and he does not notice the tears that seep from the corners of his eyes.

"Tobi? Otouto, what's wrong?" Hashirama can feel the hitch in his brothers breath, and he lifts his head. His hair spills in a dark curtain around them. He licks away the tears away because he knows Tobirama hates that, a little bit of play between siblings. "Toooobiiii," he whines, rolling them over to settle his brother in his arms and tangle their legs, melting under the warm weight.

Tobirama can't help the familiar burst of not-so-secret amusement that comes from his brother's whining. Not to mention the -

"Did you just  _ lick _ me?" he asks, finding his voice is surprisingly hoarse. "Anija, tell me, did your brain ever pass your sixth birthday?"

As for the question - "Nothing is wrong."

He's just confused, that's all. So terribly, terribly confused, and unable to tell what Hashirama's actions mean; it is suddenly as if the last few days - no, the last few  _ years _ had not happened, as if they were back to the days when they could be together without silences too full of old grievances to be entirely comfortable. He wishes that Hashirama would explain himself. What part of the spiteful revenge Hashirama had implicitly promised was this meant to be?

He laughs at the familiar tease, shaking his head hard enough that his hair whispers against the sheets. Hashirama leans up and nips his throat for the lie, kisses the small red mark before leaning back to gaze at his sibling.

"You," he says through another kiss at Tobirama's sternum, "make the most interesting faces when you lie. What's confusing you?" he knows that look all too well. Has seen it time and time again when he'd done something Tobirama just couldn't understand. Another playful lick over a pink nipple, and he decides to give his brother a moment to consider.

Hashirama lifts them both, settling Tobirama easily in his arms and carrying them to the washroom. It's a simple matter of heating the water with chakra, and he sets Tobirama on his feet. "I'll do you if you do me?"

"Anija!" Tobirama exclaims when Hashirama suddenly scoops him into his arms. Sadly, he's used to it by now - the way Hashirama likes to manhandle Tobirama, you'd think he was a foot taller rather than centimeters - and he waits until Hashirama puts him down to respond to his brother's statements. Or, well, that's his plan, and then Hashirama says  _ that _ .

"Crude, anija," he says, even as his fingers form the seals to call the water to give Hashirama a good thorough scrubbing. "Very crude. And it wasn't  _ exactly _ a lie." More of an evasion, really. 

Not that evasion would help. Maybe it was better to just confront the issue head on.

"Anija..." How to ask? He is a decent diplomat, and thus a liar, but he has never been good at lying to Hashirama except by omission. So best to be straightforward.

"You are right. I am confused. I misled you and violated your privacy -" Violated much more than that. Hashirama's trust, Hashirama's body, the taboos held by all civilized people... "- and it was clear that you were angry and disgusted by me. You were kind enough to set the price of my actions on my continuing to be Tengu for you, which I was happy to do, but now you are acting as though you are still happy to be my brother." 

Even - more than that. But Tobirama's wishful thinking has cost him enough. He won't allow himself to be deceived by his own desires again.

"What is your purpose? Is this meant as - as another punishment?" If it is, Tobirama is going to just go kill himself - nobly and on a mission on behalf of the village, of course, but it would still be better than being mocked.

"Punishment?" The word shocks him, and he freezes to stare at his brother. "I was angry," he admits it freely, "at you but... also at me. I-I don't know how to feel about this, about you. There's something else in me, something more than what I thought there was for you and I'm disgusted at that." It's so, so difficult to say this. Even as a normally open person, this is difficult to admit.

"The price I set was for me. I'm greedy, Otouto. You did things to me that I couldn't ever have considered. I've never cum harder in my life, and when I found out that it was  _ you _ that did that to me. Well," he chuckles, "I may have used vengeance to disguise my greed." He tries so hard to look at his brother, and his face is burning. "I've never been fucked before, and I almost fainted with how good your cock felt inside me."

He's fiddling now, chewing at his lips and fighting not to hide behind his hair.

Tobirama stares at him. "You -" Did Hashirama mean that he wanted him? Wanted Tobirama as Tobirama? "Do you..?"

He doesn't know what to say. Does Hashirama want him, or does he just want what Tobirama can do to him? No one knows Hashirama better than Tobirama, no one at all, so of course no one else would compare. But is it just his body? The second half sounds like it, but the first part...

"You do know I'm in love with you, right?" Tobirama asks, bewildered enough to be direct. Surely Hashirama knows that? That's why he's done - all of this. That's why he'll do anything and everything for Hashirama: why he agreed to this arrangement even though he thought it was meant as a punishment. Hashirama knew that, surely? That's why he had been disgusted, wasn't it?

"Well I do now. What I'm trying to tell you is that I'm not upset about that. I l-love you too, and I'm new to all of this. Not just what you do to me, but how I feel. How I've always felt, apparently. I may have been more than a little blind. I pushed you away because I didn't know what to do with all of this. I tried to pin it on other people because you're my brother, you shouldn't be everything I want, but you are and-and," he's rambling.

Hashirama turns around to scrub his hands over his face, and he glares at them when he sees how madly they shake. "I want you to fuck me bent over my desk but I also want to fall asleep next to you in the library."

"I would never let you sleep in a library. You're a menace to all things paper and wood," Tobirama says automatically, still shocked beyond all belief. "You...really..."

Disbelief wavers, then dissolves in a rising wave of joy. He twists suddenly and grabs Hashirama by the arms. "You had better be serious about this," he says fiercely. "I won't - I can't - I love you, anija. You're  _ it _ . If you mean what you say - if you could really feel the same - I won't be able to bear it if you ever change your mind. If you're mine, you're  _ mine _ ."

One hand raises up to Hashirama's neck. "I want to collar you for real. For  _ good _ . If you don't want that, says so now. Because otherwise I'm never letting you go."

Hashirama stares, wide eyed, at the sudden burst of  _ life _ from his brother, the previous lack of it made obvious by this stark contrast. "I'm not a menace," it's automatic to argue, but his blushing reply strays from the routine,"I'll be fine as long as you don't... do anything to me in one."

"Why would I change my mind? You're perfect," and he means it too, with all his heart. Tobirama, handsome, sharp, austere genius who takes him apart at the seams only to fill them with gold. There is no-one else, and now that he thinks about it, there never has been. All his affairs had been brief, rarely lasting longer than a week.

The hand at his neck startles honesty out of him. "Yes. I accept, I want you as my Master. Forever," he leans forward the scant few centimetres to rest his forehead on his brothers.

Tobirama kisses him, his hands rising to twine into Hashirama's hair, tugging at the roots teasingly. "Be careful what you ask for," he says, unable to stop smiling. He hasn't smiled like this in - years. "I might make you do your paperwork for once."

"I hope you don't expect me to write neatly," he breathes, because if he's discovered anything about himself, it's that Tobirama makes him shake like a new born foal.

"I'll make you sit on my cock the entire time," Tobirama says, amused. "And give you a whipping for every mistake you make."

"You don't play fair," comes the sulking pout. "How must I write if I can barely walk after you've had me."

**Author's Note:**

> Please feel free to ask questions, and in the case that I have missed any tags that you feel should be there, let me know.


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